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 in the car - you're driving," Tommy ordered you as he shoved you towards the tin can. You stumbled a bit at his force. Pedestrians gathered from the commotion on the bank and there were some coppers positioned, circling the premises.
"Watch it, pal, these heels are high and cost me a month's pay," you snapped at him. Still, something told you to keep your voice hushed, like you didn't want to undermine him in front of everyone.
Tommy tilted his head at you with amusement and opened the passenger door.
"Just drive, darling, and I'll make sure you have a new pair for every day of the week," he said before sliding into his seat. That seemed like a good deal to you.
You started the car and shifted it into gear. The rest of the coppers and that dick ran out of the bank and scampered down the cement steps, guns raised.
"What are you waiting for?!" Tommy screamed, "Go!"
You stomped the pedal and the car screeched onto the street.
"Get outta the way!" you screamed at the people that strolling by.
Tommy leaned out the window and started to shooting at the cop cars in pursuit. He took a tire out on one of them and cheered. You smirked to yourself. Handsome seemed to be his own biggest fan.
He crawled back inside and, clutching his gun.
"Take a left up here, " he pointed at the textile mill, "We'll lose 'em past the tracks."
"Now may be a good time to tell you that I've never really driven before," you shouted above the whipping wind and squealing tires.
Tommy looked over at you with a dubious grin. You saw it out of the corner of your eye and felt a throb of excitement soar through you.
"You missed your calling, dollface," he said with a laugh then grabbed the door when you took a hard right.
"Are they still behind us?!" you asked concentrating your efforts on keeping the car on all four tires.
Tommy looked out the back then turned around to reload his gun.
"Yes," he said through gritted teeth. He yanked the magazine out and smacked the loaded one in with a sneer. Then he scooted closer to you. You were hip to hip on the seat. His breath was on your neck as he placed his hand on your thigh. Why oh why was he distracting you so? You were operating an automobile here!
"You have to get ahead of the train, doll," he said in your ear, encouragingly. His hand moved up your thigh and you bit your lip from gasping.
"Drive faster," he said then kissed that spot below your ear again before disappearing out the window.
"Come have a taste, you bloody twits!" he screamed before unloading his gun onto them. Shots were fired back and you ducked with a yelp. That was a close one!
The train came roaring down the tracks. You leaned into the wheel and pushed the pedal with all your weight. The tracks closed in and the train whistled out a warning. You held your breath and careened past the train onto the other side. Unbelievable! You thought you were surely dead! You started to slow down.
"Don't stop!" Tommy shouted, sliding back into his seat. Behind you, the train was a passing blur and the coppers were nowhere to be seen.
You looked over at him as he loosened his tie and ran a hand through his hair. It was thick and chocolate and messy from the wind. He caught you watching him. You turned your eyes quickly back to the road.
"Don't stop," you repeated his order with a nod. He glanced over at you with a smug smile.
"I wager you'll be saying that again before the day is done."
