Bad Company (Seven Deadly Sins #1) ✅ Completed

Chapter Four: If Looks Could Kill

"Take these newspapers and windex all the windows, inside and out. No streaks, ya hear?" Aunt Celeste shoved her bottle of glass cleaner and a stack of old newspaper at me. "When you finish the windows wipe down all the display cases inside and don't forget the mirrors."

"Upstairs, too?" I asked, wondering how long all this was going to take.

From my quick trip upstairs I realized the store was a lot bigger than I first suspected. The second floor was like a large art gallery, with jewelry and different sculptures on glass display cases. A stairwell in the corner opened up to two more flights of stairs. I'd bypassed the third floor, heading for the very top which had to be the attic level. I'd opened the second door on the right and been unimpressed with all the boxes and store crap that'd been packed inside. A dusty old sleeping bag had been left on one of the bigger crates, along with a few ratty blankets and one amazingly flat pillow.

"Gee, Aunt Celeste. Thanks for rolling out the red carpet." I left my duffel bag inside and headed back downstairs. Maybe I'd luck out and find a garage sale or Salvation Army somewhere in town. Either one would be a good place to find a cot or cheap mattress for sale.

"Only to the second floor," she replied, giving me a sharp look, "Don't be poking around on the third floor. That's where I got my private collection and my own place. No one's allowed on that floor but me."

"Oookay," I said. She was obviously a little territorial. "Anything else I should know?"

Just then the door opened and someone dressed in black jeans and black motorcycle boots lumbered inside. Not someone.

A guy.

His boots made a heavy thudding sound as he made his way over to where we stood. I couldn't see much of him except for his faded jeans, but that probably was because he carried two boxes big enough to obscure everything from his waist up. He made his way to the glass counter and put each box down carefully.

"Is it all here?" Aunt Celeste asked, walking around to the other side of the counter.

When he looked up I had to try really hard to keep breathing like a normal person, but it was proving somewhat difficult since my brain started to short-circuit a little. It probably had to do with the fact that he was the most beautiful boy I'd seen in my life. As in ever. And I'd lived in a city where male models were as rampant as roaches.

Long black hair fell in a foppish mess over his forehead and eyebrows, even though it was cut shorter in the back. Eyes the color of the bluest ocean stared out of a face that could've been painted by a master: sharp jaw line, strong chin, and long, aquiline nose. His dual lip piercings only seemed to accentuate the perfect bow shape of his lips and a hint of a tattoo just peeked out above the collar of his black t-shirt. He didn't really look much older than I was - maybe eighteen or nineteen at the oldest.

And he was hot. Did I mention he was hot?

He nodded once at Aunt Celeste before looking over at me. My cheeks burned as I felt his gaze travel from the top of my head all the way to my toes and back. I knew what he'd see: dark brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, regular brown eyes, and a body that never made any boy's head turn. I wore my favorite old jeans, a grey t-shirt and some worn converses - nothing that screamed Manhattan Fashionista.

As if totally unimpressed with everything about me he turned back to Aunt Celeste and raised one sleek eyebrow.

She didn't even look up, just jerked her head over in my general direction, "This is my great niece Eliza Rain. She'll be staying with us for a while. She's got the room across from yours and she's off limits."

Wait. What? Who said that? I didn't say that. Didn't I get a say?

He crossed tan arms across a well developed chest and rolled his eyes. Aunt Celeste continued her version of formal introductions, "This here's Dante. He works for me, too. He don't talk much but he works plenty so stay out of his way. Now, ain't you got some windows to clean, girl? I ain't paying you by the hour."

"Sure," I mumbled, trying hard to keep my face from burning too red.

I wasn't very successful.

Grabbing my gear, I headed back outside into the bright summer day. Honestly, I was happy to get away from both my humiliating aunt and this beautiful boy that seemed about as welcoming as a skin rash. I couldn't really blame him though, it wasn't like I had them lining up back home either.

Okay, so maybe I didn't have a killer body or great cheekbones, but I wasn't sending little kids running away in terror either. I was just me - brown hair, brown eyes, not too tall, not too short, not fat, not thin, not chesty, not flat. I was just ordinary.

Still, plenty of ordinary girls get asked out every day. Statistically speaking, I should've too. Then again, maybe if I hadn't always been so antisocial one of the boys in my school would've actually bothered. You know you're pretty untouchable when even the loner crowd finds you unapproachable.

In New York, that's really saying something.

But watching my mom go through men like she changed underwear really put a damper on my boy craziness from a pretty young age. While all the girls in my grade were trying to make themselves more noticeable, I was definitely trying to fly under the male radar. I'd become pretty good at it too.

But I'd be a liar for real if I didn't admit that my stay with Aunt Celeste just got a little more interesting. Well, maybe just the view, but even that was a vast improvement from just an hour ago. I didn't date, but that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy the view.

Feeling a little better about everything I put my earbuds in, cranked up my iPod and got to work.

 *

*

*

*

* A/N: Image Credit - Steven Strait (Dante Inspiration)

Song Credit: Looks that Kill - Motley Crue