What If

21. Fight or Flight

"Lydia!" An unknown male voice called out.

I pulled away from Lydia and felt her body tense up. She turned to look behind her and I heard her sharp gasp.

"Michael?"

The unknown man, Michael, stormed in our direction with a not-so-friendly expression on his face. As he got closer, I stepped in front of Lydia, trying to shield her since he seemed like a threat.

"Lydia, who is that?" Dread filled me as I waited for her answer.

"He's-he's my-"

She was so shocked she couldn't even answer my question. As the man finally got closer, I raised my hands in warning.

"Hey, that's close enough." This guy seemed pissed. I didn't care who he was - I wasn't going to let him make her more uncomfortable than she already was.

"This is none of your business," the stranger hissed at me before he looked at Lydia. "What are you doing here?"

I felt her hand grip the back of my shirt. This is not good, I thought. She remained silent, paralyzed by fear.

"Well?" The stranger pressed.

"Why don't you tell me who you are and what you're doing here." I said with an edge in my voice. This guy was asking for it, and with my current legal situation, I really didn't want to punch anyone tonight.

"I'm her fucking brother and I live here." Her brother looked back at her. "It's been almost twenty years, Lydia."

That seemed to bring her out of her trance. "Yeah, it has, Michael. It's been almost twenty years since you, Alex, and mom left me. I was twelve-years-old!"

I reached behind me and took her hand, trying to comfort her while I kept my eyes on her...brother? Holy shit, this night was not going like I planned.

"What choice did we have, Lydia? We weren't much older than you. We were kids! You made it worse for mom with what you did."

"She did it to herself!" Lydia yelled back.

I could feel Lydia starting to shake behind me. This guy was really asking for it.

"I think it's time for you to leave," I said in warning.

The guy didn't seem to hear me. "She was so out of it when she left, me and Alex were thrown into foster care."

"Sean, I can't...I" I turned to look at her and her eyes were wide. She seemed like she couldn't concentrate.

"God, Lydia. Always the victim. Look at your clothes? Is this guy paying you or something?"

I turned to her brother, and my expression must have been what I was hoping for, because he took a step back. "Listen to me, you piece of shit. I don't give a fuck who you are. You don't talk to her that way. Ever."

"Sean, I...can't breathe."

By the time I turned around, Lydia's eyes had rolled to the back of her head. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She had a panic attack and passed out. I tried to catch her, but it was too late. She fell to the ground and I heard the gut-wrenching sound of her head connecting with the pavement.

My heart was slamming against my chest as I dropped to my knees and ran my hands over her. "Lydia? Lydia!" She didn't open her eyes and my panic went through the roof. "FUCK!" I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

They answered immediately and I was surprised I could form complete sentences. "Yes, I need an ambulance at 2 Marina Boulevard, Off The Grid, Fort Mason Center. My girlfriend fell and hit her head. Yes, please hurry."