Page 27 of Striker's Yield

“Autumn, look,” he commands.

I shake my head, not looking.

“Mama, look at the mirror,” he says, this time soft and gentle, but his fingers press tighter into my hips. Not digging, but firm. “Look in the mirror.”

Taking a deep breath, I lift my gaze to the mirror and meet his eyes.

“Now, tell me what you see, Autumn,” he says, jerking his chin toward the mirror.

“I see you, me, us,” I answer, still looking at me.

“Look at you, baby, look at yourself and tell me, ‘cause I’ll tell you what I see,” he says, lifting a hand from my waist to brush my hair out of my face. “I see a beautiful woman, so beautiful she doesn’t even know it.” Striker lowers his hand, stroking the backs of his fingers downward until he’s cupping one of my breasts. “A beautiful woman with a sinful body that I can’t get enough of.” This, he says while pressing his cock into my backside.

I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s already hard again, but he is, and it does surprise me.

“Striker,” I whisper his name, unsure if I could handle him talking anymore.

“Tell me what you see when you look in the mirror.”

“I look in the mirror, and it’s not me I see,” I finally utter on a breath.

“Mama,” he murmurs, dropping his hand back to my waist and wrapping both arms around me. “You and Avery looked a fuck of a lot alike, but she wasn’t your replica. Y’all shared features, but she wasn’t you. You weren’t her.”

“No one could ever tell us apart,” I share.

“I could tell you and her apart the first time I met you. I knew you weren’t Avery, and the next time I saw her, I knew she wasn’t you.”

“How did you know?” I find it hard to catch my breath.

“Don’t know exactly. Just knew, I suppose,” he says, squeezing me. “It could be her body wasn’t like yours. The way you held yourself. Or the way you styled your hair in that messy knot, and she wore hers in a ponytail.”

This is true, I did do this. I also wore clothes that molded to my body, whereas Avery wore hers comfier. Granted, we were both T-shirt and jeans girls.

“Now, look at yourself, Autumn, look at the woman I know you are. Tell me you see you and not someone else.”

Blinking back the tears that burn in my eyes and want to be free to stream down my face . . . I blink them away and stare at myself in the mirror. I stare at me, and then I look at Striker.

I still don’t understand why he’s with me, but seeing us together, I decided to stop fighting it. The pain of losing my sister will always be there, but I’m alive. Striker makes me feel like I’m living again, and I want to do just that.

I hope in the end, I’m not making the wrong decision.

CHAPTER 13

Striker

“I’ll be back this evening to pick you up.” The last thing I want to be doing is dropping Autumn off right at work and leaving her alone all day, but I’ve got some things to do today which means I can’t hang around here to keep an eye on her.

“I’m fine to go back to my apartment. I don’t need you to pick me up,” she says, moving away from me and heading for the back.

I follow after her, nodding to a woman who’s already there prepping baked goods.

“Hey Tiffany,” Autumn greets her. “I’ll be right back to help. I’m so sorry I wasn’t already here.”

Tiffany smiles. “You’re fine, I have this handled. Go set your stuff down. Get coffee. I’ve got this.”

Autumn nods and heads for her office. I step in behind her and watch as she stows her stuff away in a cabinet drawer while listening when she starts talking. “Tiffany’s part-time here. She can’t do full-time. Mondays are the only days she comes in so early because her husband is able to take their kids to school. The other days, I’m in here by myself until right before opening when Athena comes in. I can’t afford to be late like this.”

“Autumn, you can’t do everything yourself,” I say, moving behind her. “You gotta give some of the weight to others.”

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