Two hands splay on my window, and now the reverend has garnered the attention of people exiting the restaurant. With pleading eyes that I pray convey, “someone get this man,” I stare at the two men and two women.
One of the women turns around and heads back into the restaurant while the two men approach my car, effectively pulling the reverend’s attention away from me. Once the two men coax him away from my car, I get out silently and slip into the restaurant alongside the other older woman. She sits me down in a booth, and that’s when Henrietta notices me.
Right as the two women who saw the scene outside ask me if I’m okay and need help, Henrietta and Marcus approach the table. “Emma Jane, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I huff. “I wish it were a ghost. The reverend is making a huge scene outside. Did you know he was here?”
Marcus grabs her hand while she looks down at me sheepishly, oblivious to what just occurred outside. “I don’t like him, Emma Jane. I like Marcus. I was going to go on this date with him, I swear. But when he showed up, he went off on me saying something about how he wished I was you. Marcus showed up then. He took me inside, ordered us dinner, and I told him that my rejection of his letter was all a big lie.”
“I’m so sorry, Henrietta. I should have never put you into this situation. I—” Tears prickle in the corner of my eyes, but I shove them back. I have no right to cry right now. That could have been Henrietta instead of me out there.
Because of me.
“I know, Emma Jane. Thank you for apologizing, and I forgive you. It’s okay.”
Right as I open my mouth to respond, the door swings open, and the two men who were occupying the reverend stroll inside. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I answer the older gentleman. “Where is the man?”
“The mayor showed up and said he’d take care of it, though he looked all out of sorts.”
I shoot to my feet and am out the door in four long strides. I look around, but I don’t see the reverend or Knightley. I check over by my car, and there’s no one. Then, I hear a yelp, similar to one of a hurt puppy, come from the back of the restaurant. I run around and find Knightley holding the reverend by his black collar, shoving him against the brickbuilding.
“...And if you ever so much asbreathein her direction, so help me God, your career as a reverend will not be the only thing you lose.”
“Knightley!” He snaps his head to me, and I watch visible relief slink through the reverend’s body as he drops his head down to his chest. Marcus and Henrietta appear at my side, and Knightley quickly instructs Marcus to hold the reverend back. Once Marcus has him, Knightley stalks toward me, wrapping me in his arms when he’s close enough to touch me. He’s sweaty and smelly, but I don’t care. He’s my safety.
I melt into his arms, and that’s when a tear decides to trickle down my cheek.
“You’re safe,” Knightley whispers against my ear, his large hand holding my head against his racing heart. “I’m going to kill him.”
I chuckle then pull back, wiping at the rebellious tear. “No, but we are getting a new leader of our church, right?”
“Absolutely we are,” he comments as if he’s Dwight fromThe Office.We’ve watched that entire show together. That little thought of familiarity has me remembering my conversation with Halle from over a week ago. I look into his eyes, and my heart races for a whole new reason. He bailed on his date for me. He ran to me. He showed up for me.
“And I’m calling the police on this sick man,” Knightley says, breaking me from the spell I momentarily fell under.
We both look at the reverend, who is slumped down against the wall, barely conscious. Marcus isn’t even holding him anymore. Henrietta gives me a questioning look, and I tell her I’ll fill her in on everything later. “But for now, can you two get the reverendhome? I don’t think we need to call the cops. He was drunk and acting stupid.”
Part of me wonders if we should tell the police, but the last thing I want to do at this point is give statements. I just want to go home.
As if reading my mind, Knightley nods and repeats my question to Marcus. They agree to drive the now passed out man home.
I pivot toward Knightley, my heart shuddering under his caring gaze.
“You ran to me…”
“You needed me.”
Knightley
Rule #11: Mistakes will not break you. It’s okay to get a match wrong. The important thing is to try again.
Emma Jane doesn’t know this, but I am going to the police tomorrow. It’ll be good that my hot temper has a chance to cool before I storm up into the precinct to demand…
I don’t know what I’m demanding, as the reverend never got around to hurting Emma Jane, thank God. Maybe I can convince them he needs a ticket for drunken misconduct? As much as I love the law, it falls short and fails at times because of its reactive nature.
I can see the tiredness and exhaustion from the situation etched across Emma Jane’s face, so tonight, I will honor her wishes and take her home.
