Thank you for your continued support of my every whim and fancy. I appreciate it, almost as much as I appreciate all of you.

Standard disclaimer.

Sam was a bit heavy handed with his truth bomb, in the previous chapter, but Mercedes needs help.

You guys will see in the upcoming chapters, what I'm referring to.

MERCEDES

The painful truth of Sam's harsh words, sunk deeper into my being, gripping me, until the backs of my eyes were burning with un-shed tears.

"You can't take that back," I whispered. "You can't take that back."

He flinched.

I drew in air, but it seemed to get stuck in my throat and a series of fine shivers rolled down my back.

"Fuck you, Sam."

My hands shook, but I set the bottle on the counter, then turned and started walking towards the steps.

Sam wheeled around, blocking my path. His eyes were wide.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said...not like that."

His words hit and bounced off.

"Get out of my way."

"Mercedes..."

"Get out of my way!" I screamed so loudly, a streak of pain shot down my throat.

I stumbled back as the tips of my fingers started to tingle.

"I get it. Okay? You regret being with me..."

"Wait. What? I never said that, Mercedes. I don't regret a moment of being with you," he said, shaking his head. "If you don't believe me, I'll walk right out there and tell both our friends, exactly what we did and what it meant to me."

I laughed, but the sound also got caught around the knot in my throat.

For the tiniest moment, it felt like I couldn't breathe. Even though I knew I could...even though I knew I was breathing right then.

But my lungs seized up. It felt as though, vise clamps had been secured around my chest and tightened.

The tingling spread up my arms, as the corners of my vision started to dim. And blood pounded through me, as my heart rate kicked into overdrive.

Sam was talking, but I wasn't hearing him. There was a roaring in my ears, drowning him out.

I tried to side-step him, but stumbled, lost my balance and bumped into the wall.

He reached for me, but I needed to get out of there. I needed to go upstairs.

I needed my medication.

The sliding glass door opened then, and it sounded like a high-pitched whine, to my suddenly sensitive ears.

Air wheezed in and out.

"What's going on in here?" Caleb asked, from somewhere in the kitchen, and it sounded like he yelled it, as if his voice boomed like thunder.

"He won't...let me...go upstairs," I mumbled, leaning against the wall. "I need...to go...upstairs."

The room spun, as I pushed off the wall, my legs shaking, as I reached the first step.

I thought I heard Shay's voice, but it sounded far away, somewhere like a tunnel.

I needed to get upstairs, so I could breathe. I needed to breathe.

A hand landed on my arm, but I kept going. Pure determination drove me up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

My purse...it was somewhere in the room with my meds.

"Mercedes, what the hell is going on with you?" Sam was right behind me, his voice coming back in, loud and clear.

'Please. Just go away. Please. Just go away.'

I wasn't sure if I spoke those words out loud or not. I thought I did. And I needed to, because, the room, the world, needed to go quiet so that I could make this stop.

I stumbled across the room, towards the dresser, but I didn't see my purse.

Where was it?

God, I needed to find it.

I was frantic.

Had I not brought it with me?

Did I leave it somewhere?

Panic exploded in my gut like buckshot. It was going to happen. I could feel it building at the base of my neck.

"Leave me alone," I said, and as I spun around, I saw Sam standing just inside the room, but I didn't really see him. "Leave me alone!"

SAM

I froze, my hands at my sides, as I stared at Mercedes. I had no idea what was happening. I didn't even know, if she knew what was going on.

Was she that drunk?

I wanted to help her, but I didn't know how.

I stepped towards her and then immediately stopped, as she shrieked,

"Leave me alone!"

I halted once more. Something was very wrong with her.

Her face was flushed, too shiny. Her eyes were glazed over, maybe from the drinks, but they were darting too fast.

Even from where I stood, I could tell her pupils were dilated.

My stomach dropped and a horrible, insidious thought crept in.

Was she on something?

"What can I do?" I asked. "Tell me what I can do to help you."

She shook her head and then she doubled over, folding her arms across her waist.

Concern overrode any other thought. I moved forward, but a smaller form shot passed me, heading straight for her.

It was Shaylee.

She rushed to Mercedes' side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, saying,

"Come on, Mercedes, take a deep breath. You need to stop and take a deep breath."

Mercedes was trembling so badly, Shay was shaking.

"I need..."

Either Mercedes' legs gave out, or Shay had gotten her to the floor, because, they were both huddled there.

"What's happening?" I asked.

Shay didn't answer. She was focused on Mercedes.

One of her small hands was on the center of her back, the other above her chest.

"Take a deep, slow breath. That's all you've got to do. Take a breath..."

Never in my life, had I ever felt so damn helpless, as I stood there, watching them.

I was trained to help save people, to rush into burning buildings and use instruments, to pry open the mangled wreckage of vehicles.

I've given CPR and stopped gushing wounds, but I never felt more useless than I did then.

"I need..." Mercedes gasped out, between a broken-sounding sob. "...my meds..."

'Her meds?'

"I can't give them to you," Shay said, running her hand down Mercedes' back.

But Mercedes' cries grew stronger, and I couldn't stop myself. I moved closer, kneeling down.

"I'm sorry, Mercedes. I can't," Shay continued, holding her tight. "You've been drinking. I can't give you those pills. Not when you've been drinking."

"I can't breathe," shrieked Mercedes.

"I'm going to get you to breathe again, okay? Just listen to me. I'm going to get you to breathe again." Shay paused, looking over at me. "You need to leave."

"Is she okay?" I asked.

"She will be," she replied softly. "But please leave. She's not going to get better with you in here."

I didn't understand that, but as I glanced at Mercedes, my heart shattered a bit. She was practically curled into a ball.

"I'll make sure she's okay. I promise." Sydney met my gaze. "But please leave. Let me take care of her."

But I wanted to be the one to take care of her.

After all, I had a feeling that I'd caused this...or at least added to whatever the hell was going on.

Never did I suspect my ignorant words, would have driven her to this, and maybe it was partly due to the alcohol, but I was a part of this.

"She has panic attacks," Shay said, when I hadn't moved. "That's all this is, okay? It's a panic attack."

'Panic attack?'

My internal thoughts were a parrot.

I had no idea. Never once had Mercedes mentioned anything like that, or even appeared like she suffered from them.

Obviously it was something relatively common, if Shay knew about them. And Mercedes had meds...meds she couldn't take, because, she'd been drinking.

Oh man, I knew what alcohol could do, if mixed with certain meds.

I didn't know what kind of meds she was supposed to take in this situation, but what if she had gotten up here and taken them?

Good God, it could've ended tragically.

I found myself nodding, as I slowly rose and I wasn't even aware that I was out in the hall, until I spotted Caleb waiting by the steps.

I walked passed him.

"I didn't know," I said. "I didn't know she went through that."

He said nothing, as he followed me downstairs.

I didn't know where I was going, but I needed to keep moving.

I hit the kitchen and stopped, running both hands over my head.

"Did you know?" I asked, when I heard Caleb behind me.

There was a pause.

"Shay mentioned it before."

"Shit!" I dropped my hands, as tension crept across my neck. "And no one thought it would be a good idea to tell me?"

"Why would we? I mean, that's some personal shit right there."

I faced him.

"Shay told you."

"I'm her boyfriend, and it wasn't like I was going to tell people. And you...not to be ignorant...but you're just some guy, who hangs out with Mercedes, every once in a while."

My hands closed into fists.

"I'm not some fucking random dude."

He arched a brow.

"You're not?"

"Fuck no!"

"You're her friend then?"

"I'd say, we fall in the 'more than just friends' category," I responded and turned away.

Caleb didn't say anything.

Spying the beer bottle, Mercedes was drinking from on the counter, I snatched it up, walked over to the sink, and emptied out.

Caleb's silence was deafening.

"What? You're not going to ask for details on that statement?" I asked.

"I really don't think this is the time, for me to get info out of you," he replied calmly. "All things considered."

"Hell!" I threw the empty bottle in the trash and then gripped the edge of the counter, dipping my head. "I'm a dick. A total fucking dick."

I shouldn't have said what I did. There was something to be said, about being too honest and those words had been too honest.

They were also hurtful as fuck.

Anger and frustration had gotten the better of me, and that really made me no different than my father.

Knowing that burned like a mother.

How many times had my father lost his cool and said ignorant shit to my mom?

To me?

More times than I could count. Although, sometimes it was the truth.

My mom wasn't perfect either, and neither had I been growing up, but just because something was true, didn't make it right to throw it in someone's face.

And just because what I'd said to Mercedes was true, didn't make it okay.

Well, what I'd said was partially true.

I had no idea why she'd been mostly single, since I've known her.

Most guys would overlook the drinking. Hell, I could overlook it, if I didn't care about her. And that was the whole thing. I cared about her. A lot.

And I had hurt her.

What I'd said, needed to be said, but that hadn't been the right way to go about it.

And I wasn't sure an apology was going to be enough.

Clenching the counter, I watched what was left of the foam from the beer, bubble its way down the drain.

"It can't be that bad," Caleb said.

I'd forgotten that he was even in the room.

"Oh, it is."

"She was drunk and she has some issues, Sam."

"With anxiety?" I pushed off the counter, ready to defend the whole 'issues' statement. "A lot of people have problems with that. It's not that uncommon."

He raised his hands.

"I'm not saying it's bad that she does, or anything like that, but you've got to understand, it probably had some kind of influence on her reaction. You probably weren't the only cause of what just happened."

"Maybe," I muttered. "But man, just trust me on this. I shouldn't have said what I did. Not the way I said it."

Caleb stared at me for a moment.

"Okay. So now, I'm going to get all up in your business, at the most inopportune time possible."

I raised my brows.

"It's obvious that you really care about her. Something went down between you two, while me and Shay were camping."

He grinned, in a way that kind of creeped me out.

"This is great," he added.

I frowned.

"I don't think this is a good thing, right at this moment."

"No. It is. Well, after you apologize for being a general shithead and Mercedes...well, when she feels better." He tilted his head to the side, studying me. "It doesn't bother you that she has anxiety issues?"

My frowned deepened.

"No. Why would it?"

"Some people...well, I'm gonna be real. There are people out there who are assholes and don't understand something like that. They judge."

I folded my arms across my chest.

"I'm not one of them."

He nodded and then asked,

"What about the drinking?"

And that was the million-dollar question.

I wanted to be able to overlook the drinking, because, underneath it all, there was a damn-fine woman there.

Mercedes was smart and she was funny. She was kind and she was beautiful. And she was a damn firecracker in and out of bed, but the drinking...

The girl had a problem, even if she didn't want to acknowledge it.

I shook my head, unable to answer that...and damn, that was probably answer enough.

Maybe for a while, I could ignore the drinking, but long-term? Yeah, I couldn't deal with that.

Disappointment rushed me.

I felt like something cherished had just been snatched away from me.

"What got her so pissed off at you?" Caleb asked.

Part of me didn't want to talk about it, but guilt was a noxious acid in my stomach.

"You were right. Things did change between Mercedes and I, while you guys were gone...hell, before you guys left. It got heated...in a good way. But when you guys came back, she was so nervous and I...I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. I wanted to see how she played things out, but..."

But she hadn't really acted any different towards me, and so neither had I, towards her.

Last night, I'd planned on sneaking into her room, but I figured we probably should talk first and I knew talking would've been the last thing I would've done.

So I decided to wait, until today to talk to her.

And then she'd played keep-away all day. If I could go back and change things, I would.

I never ended up elaborating on what I was saying to Caleb.

I was done talking about shit and I spent the next couple of hours roaming the house, until I finally got tired of waiting for Shay to reappear.

I headed upstairs, passed my room.

The door to Mercedes' room was ajar. Taking a deep breath, I eased it open.

I was relieved to see that neither of them was still on the floor.

Mercedes was asleep on her side, facing the door. Curled inward, her face was no longer flushed, but her hair appeared damp, and her lips were parted.

Shay sat on the other side of her, leaning against the headboard, her legs crossed at the ankles.

She glanced up from her phone, just as I stepped into the room.

"Is she okay?" I whispered, not wanting to disturb Mercedes.

Lowering her phone to her lap, Shay nodded.

"She's out cold." Her voice was low. "A truck could drive through this house and she'd sleep through it. It's like that after...after these instances."

My chest spasmed.

"This...this happens a lot?"

She studied me for a moment, as uncertainty flickered across her face.

"As far as I know, not when she's been drinking, but it's happened a couple of times, since I've known her."

"She normally uses the meds then?"

Shay nodded again.

"It's not her fault. Her brain...well, it's like a faulty house alarm, you know? Your brain is wired to alert you to danger. It gets the adrenaline going, all of that, but with people who have anxiety attacks, the brain isn't working correctly. It's like a house alarm going off, when no one is breaking into the house. Sometimes something triggers it...something big. Other times, it can be an issue, that would be minor for the rest of us."

"I didn't think it was her fault," I whispered. "I just didn't know. I had no idea. Mercedes seems so..."

"You know, usually the people who smile the most and laugh the loudest, are the ones who suffer the most," Shay said quietly, as she glanced down at Mercedes, sighing wearily. "I knew the drinking was bad, especially, with the anxiety. I've talked to her about it, you know? But I've never really pushed her on it, and I...I should've...I know better. It's just hard to see everything clearly, when it's someone you care about."

Damn, that was...all of this was painful to hear.

For a moment, I couldn't move. All I could do was stare at Mercedes.

Her bright red highlighted curls, were spread out behind her like flames and her hands were folded under her chin, against her chest.

I had no idea how she'd gotten herself in that tiny ball, but she looked much smaller, and so much younger.

"I messed up," I said out loud, to no one in particular.

A heartbeat passed and Shay said,

"So did she. So did all of us."

Stay safe!