Nadirah Foxx  


Happy Friday! How are you today?

I feel like I’ve been playing catch-up all week. For some reason, writing was more difficult these past few days. Instead of my usual 6,000 word count, I was lucky to squeak out 4,000. Oh well… it’s like that some times.

Who’s ready for another installment of Love Struck?


Part Twelve


I hadn’t planned to break the news the way I did. Something about my sister’s demeanor forced my hand. No. It was that constant voice in my head.

The one that told me I had to act. Dad claimed it would drive me mad one day. His constant companion drove him to drink. With two parents who liked alcohol and drugs more than they appreciated people, I was glad I only heard a voice.

Reaching for my phone, I scrolled through the pics I took of Jocelyn. A little prompting on my part, and she conveyed the right amount of fear. Our mother would see them soon enough. And if she didn’t give me what I wanted? Then the world would learn about the real El Mercury.

What a name! How did she come up with such a ridiculous moniker?

I’d worry about that shit tomorrow. I had to get some sleep.


My brother snored like a chainsaw. If only I had one, then I might free myself. Honestly, I didn’t believe we were related. We couldn’t be. Mom did a lot of dumb shit in her lifetime, but abandoning a kid… That wasn’t like her. 

It didn’t matter what Steve’s so-called birth certificate said. Hell, for all I knew, he could have shown me a fake. It was obvious the man had mental issues. If—and that was a huge if—we had the same mother, all he had to do was sit down with her. She would have listened, and then hired a private investigator. Mom could be a pain in my ass, but she was a thorough pain. When she had a hunch, she didn’t give up until she had an answer.

I hoped she wouldn’t give up on me.

Granted, I wasn’t anyone’s idea of a great daughter. As much as I hated Mom’s lifestyle, mine was just as screwed up. I did everything possible to fuck up my own life. I didn’t work. Partied too much. I was lazier than a sloth. When Mom extended an olive branch, I broke it. I was so damn determined to not be like her that I became her. Hell, I even looked like her.

Twenty years ago.

Maybe that was Steve’s real issue—besides the mental one. He fell in love with an image. He saw me and thought… Nope. That wasn’t it. The man firmly believed he was my brother and was entitled to everything he missed out on in life. He should talk to Ross.

Ross would swear that nothing good came with being Ella Lander’s kid. It was the reason he rarely came home. He toured the country, playing whatever venue would have him. Ross was determined to succeed on his own. He believed latching on to the Mercury name would mean he’d suffer his father’s fate.

He might have been right.

Our mother was a toxin, poisoning anyone and anything that came near her. If I could only get Steve to realize he was better off without the woman.

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