1930s Chicago. Notorious gangster Tom "Tommy Gun" Holland has been storming his way through Cook County, robbing banks and breaking hearts. One day you find yourself in the wrong place, at the wrong time when he makes a hit on your bank. There's...
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"Get on the ground!" the man shouted. You did just as you were ordered. Of all the days to make a withdrawal, you pick this day, this moment, to do so. You just needed some funds for that new dress and now you're face down on the cool tile, with the rest of the bank patrons, praying to make it out alive.
"Nobody move!" came another shout. His voice seemed put on, like he was purposely peppering it with flair. He appeared harmless enough. He was on the shorter side and walked with too much panache. He entered the bank almost immediately after you, brandishing a tommy gun and an agenda. There was a smug smile from the start, not something one wears for your everyday cash withdrawal. He seemed too self assured, too much cockiness in his strut.
You risked an upward glance. He was only a few feet from you, gun aimed at the tellers, shoes as shiny as a new penny.
You recognized him from the papers. How could a felon be so handsome? Surely they were all brute and brawn. This guy though, he was something different. There was a grace to him, a feline like prowess that made you bite your lip. If only he weren't such a bad boy. Oh, who were you kidding - you loved the bad boys.
"What are you looking at, doll face?" he sneered at you. Damn, you were busted. He bent down and grabbed your arm with haste. That face was more than fair now that you got a good look.
You scrambled to your feet with a whimper. His eyes were fixed on you and filled with a frenzy. He snatched you to him and held you close. His hand was high on your waist and maybe it was your imagination, but you could have sworn it grazed your breast. It all would have felt very exciting if not for the gun pointed at your head.
"Anyone moves and the dame gets it!" he shouted, darting his eyes around the room. The tip of his gun, pointed away, towards the crowd. No one moved and the bank was mostly silent. You heard a few sniffles come from the brass bars that separated the tellers from the bank floor. There was a child with his mother that started to cry. Both you and the captivating crook seemed to notice at the same time.
"Get the kid outta here!" he shouted at the mother. She looked up with hesitation at the both of you.
"Go," you mouthed to her. She quickly gathered him up and raced through the doors.
"Don't try anything," he growled in your ear. His accent was hard to place. He certainly wasn't from these parts. The south side of Chicago was home to many immigrants, so who knows. It sounded English.
"I wouldn't dream of it," you breathed. His grip on you only tightened. You wondered if he would ruin your dress somehow. And here you were just trying to get the money to purchase a new one.
"Bring me everything in your drawers. Hurry!" he shouted. The tellers scampered to grab whatever cash their drawers held. This devilish deviant threw a sack their way.
"Fill it!" he yelled, "and give it to toots here." He said pushing you forward. You guessed you were "toots".
You knelt down and retrieved the sack. You glanced over at the gorgeous guy with question. His nod instructed you to gather whatever means you could. You placed the sack in front of each teller, working your way down the line. Your eyes conveyed your duress, how you were only an accomplice by force.
"Just give him what he wants and he'll let us go," you whispered to each of them. Mostly, they seemed annoyed to be bothered by the whole thing, depositing whatever their drawers held to be done with the whole thing and be on with their day.
Once the last till was emptied, you made your way back to the fetching fellow. The sack must have weighed 100 lbs.! You dragged it back across the bank floor.
"Can I go now?" you pouted at the gent. He sure was good looking. A part of you hoped he would decline so you could savor that cologne of his a little longer.
He snatched the sack from you then grabbed you roughly.
"Don't think you're getting off that easily" he murmured in your ear. The heat from his breath was absolutely alluring. You gasped a little and risked a small flirtation.
"Is that right?" you whispered against him. You brushed the curve of your behind against his expensive three piece suit.
