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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Sirens screamed from outside. The coppers were called.
Handsome's dukes gripped your arms and pulled you closer to him.
"Don't think because you've got that cute little bum that I won't plug you full of lead," he growled against your neck. You gulped and felt your heart drum in your chest.
You looked around for an escape and cast a glance at some joe on the floor. He was fixing to do something stupid, you could tell. His fingers were tapping his thighs, inching little by little. Probably packing heat. You caught his eye and slightly shook your head. He looked away quickly, his fingers settling.
Glass shattered up ahead and the bank floor filled with coppers. They all lined up, pointing their guns at the two of you.
You yelped and made to raise your hands. Handsome tightened his hold on you and placed a hand on your throat.
"One move and I snap the broad's neck," he shouted at them. His gun drifted across each of their faces threateningly.
"You're getting sloppy, Tommy," said some fellow in a suit. He stepped out from behind the uniforms with a triumphant smile on his face. Must be some dick.
"We were onto you the minute you set foot in Cook County. It's over. Let the girl go, Tommy," he ordered stepping closer.
You suddenly recognized him now. Of course that handsome face had been all over the news. Tom "Tommy Gun" Holland was swiftly leaving his criminal footprint all across the state of Illinois. His spree started several months ago somewhere outside Decatur. The papers said he lost someone in the great crash of '29 and now he has a vendetta against all big banks. He even went so far as to tie up all the bank managers and execute them point blank. At least that's what the papers said. He didn't seem all that terrifying really, even though he had you in a chokehold. Maybe it was the fact that his thumb was caressing your throat and something unexpected was poking your behind.
"Grab the dough, doll," Tommy commanded you. He took his hand away from your throat, but now the gun was pointed back at you. You stooped down and grabbed the sack by the neck. Your knees felt all wobbly and you thought you may faint. All the excitement was making you awfully woozy.
You stumbled getting back up, but Tommy hooked his mitt around your arm and steadied you. You almost gave him a thanks until your eyes met the barrel of the gun. You were startled by its starkness and gave a loud gasp. The room stirred immediately with tension. The coppers' eyes went from you to Tommy, watching closely, waiting for him to make a mistake. Tommy yanked you in front of him, shielding himself from any fire. The dick raised his own gun at Tommy and cocked it with glee.
"You know we'll find you, Tommy. You step out that door and you'll always be running. You'll always be looking over your shoulder. And you'll always see me there, right on your tail."
Tommy stiffened against you. You felt him hesitate. Maybe the words sunk in this time. Maybe he changed his mind and he would let you go and you could finally get that damn dress. Maybe his hand was squeezing your hip in an eager fashion.
Without warning, Tommy unloaded his gun in the air. Bullets sprayed the ceiling, the windows, the walls. The sound was deafening and echoed off the marble and brass with a resounding ratta-tatta.
Once the last bullet bounced, the room quieted to the sounds of hostages sobbing and your pulse pounding.
"Fancy a little fun, dollface?" Tommy whispered in your ear and kissed the spot right below it. Before you could protest, he glided backwards, dragging you with him towards the exit.
