Bigger than Jesus - 2

I heard George take in a sharp breath and before I knew it, his hand was firmly gripping my wrist.
"Lau! What th' hell are you doing?!" he hissed so as not to attract unwanted attention.
…What was I doing?
"I…I have to go out there--"
"No, you don't."
"Geo, I can't sit here and let this happen!"
"It's happening in more places than this one, Lauren; stopping one bonfire won't make a bloody difference!"
"Well you sure are a big help." I replied, my words dripping with sarcasm.
George's eyes softened. "I'm only trying to protect you. You could get hurt out there. And Rings would never forgive me if anything happened to you…"
I paused and looked down at my right hand, the engagement ring delicately glimmering from the radiance of the fire across the street.
"…But I can't stand to see them doing this…When someone's hurting you, it's hurting me too. You're my friends…"
"Lau, that stuff's only merchandise, a bunch of trifles. You shouldn't risk your life over that."
"I'm not doing it because of what they're burning. I'm doing it because what they are doing is an indirect strike at you. I don't let friends get hurt because of people's ignorance."
George opened his mouth then closed it, trying to find the right words to say. He then locked eyes with me.
"You really are a stubborn one, aren't you?"
I flashed him a smirk. "You can thank John for rubbing it off on me." I then opened the door and began speed walking over to the lot, fury in every step I took.
One of the small children, a dirty-blond boy, looked up in my direction and wiped his eyes quickly. Before I walked by him, he reached out with a small hand and tugged on my skirt. I stopped and was about to dismiss him, but before I could get a word out he lifted his sweater vest, showing a large button pinned to his undershirt. On the pin:
THE FAB 4EVER
I felt a small smile grow on my face as he looked up at me with large eyes of olive green.
"B-Beatles not bad like he says," he whispered.
I gave him a little nod and pet his head. "I know…I'm here to help them."
He grinned hopefully, gaps where he had lost some teeth to the Tooth Fairy.
"You…You f-friend of Beatles…" He pulled a newspaper clipping from out of his pants pocket. It was a picture of me and Ringo that was taken a few months ago, when he proposed to me.
I nodded again, but then I remembered why I was out of the safety of the car in the first place.
"Wish me luck, I'm going to try and save my friends." I waved and sped off towards through the crowd. I looked back quickly to see the little boy give me a reassuring thumbs up.
My flats kicked up pebbles as I ran across the lot, skidding to a halt in front of the podium.
"Stop it! Stop it right now! This is madness!" I shouted over the roaring flames of the bonfire, the heat licking my cheek.
The pastor looked down from his high perch and narrowed his eyes at me.
"Since when do you have a say in our matters?" he roared. I spotted the tear-stained face of Mary peering from behind the stand, as well as one of her feet inching towards the stairs.
"Since the Constitution gave me the right!" I screamed.
Mary's eyes widened at me and she cupped a hand over her mouth. She must have recognized me.
A calloused hand grabbed at my arm and spun me around, and I came face to face with one of the men in the crowd, the beginnings of a goatee visible on his sun-tanned face.
"Hey you! Don't talk to Father Easton that way! He's a respectable man!"
I ripped away from his grasp. "A respectable man would RESPECT OTHERS!"
"YOU LITTLE HELLRAISER!" he growled at me.
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the gravel of the lot. My face was both numb and stinging; my nerves were incredibly out of whack, unable to make ends of what to feel.
My hand weakly went to my nose, and I pulled it away, seeing dark red ooze dripping down my fingers.
"F-F-Fu…" I stuttered, but then coughed, tasting my own hot blood in my mouth.
"Like I said, you harlot," The man's voice rumbled in my ear. "Y'all don't talk to Father--"
"F-F-Fu-u-u…" I attempted to speak again, but I only got another slap, this time against my temple. I shrieked. Then he delivered a kick in my abdomen, as if that was going to silence me. I curled into the fetal position, clutching my gut.
"St-stop it!" I choked out.
"Y'all got what you deserved, you sniveling devil worshipper!"
"I'm a Christian, not a pagan!" I spat.
"A real Christian would be in this here crowd burning these contaminants!" I heard another man yell. Others muttered in agreement.
Then Mary spoke up.
"D-Daddy, don't let them do this to her…"
The pastor looked down at his daughter. "What?"
"Don't…hurt her. Please…" I heard her short, wheezing breaths. "She's…she's engaged."
Her father raised his eyebrow, wrinkling his forehead.
"How would you know? Is she a friend of yours?"
"She's…" she looked up at me. "She's to be married to a B-Beatle. They make the perfect couple and everything and…Daddy, please…" she whimpered.
The pastor's eyes widened.
"She's…one of them?"
He opened his mouth to speak again, but at the same time one of the other men in the crowd overheard Mary, grabbing a metal rod and stabbing it into the fiery heap.
"Let's get rid of her! Then we'll see how those little pagans cringe!" He pulled the bar out of the fire, the tip sizzling red-hot like a branding iron.
I moaned helplessly. I wondered if George knew what was going on; I couldn't even see the car past the multitude of legs. I had probably screwed him over going into the fray the way I did.
Because of my hardheaded move, I'd gotten hurt, just what George didn't want.
But I just wanted to do the right thing. No, I needed to do the right thing.
Of course it had to come with pain.
I needed help…I needed the boys…I needed Ritchie…