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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"Are you alright?" Tommy asked you over his plate of eggs and bacon.
You weren't alright, actually. You were spooked by those goons who had their grubby paws all over you. You barely touched your breakfast, just poked your pancakes with your fork.
"More coffee?" the waitress appeared by your booth, pot in hand. Tommy smiled at her and held his mug up. She blushed at him, clearly taken by his good looks. She was pretty herself, long lashes and the whitest smile. No doubt Tommy noticed.
"Thank you...," he leaned in to read her name tag, "...Amanda." He gave her a charming wink.
She nodded and sashayed to the next booth. Tommy's eyes followed her. You watched him with a smirk. Well, that didn't take long. You were his girl for almost an entire meal.
But then his eyes drifted over the other booths, across the tables, all around the diner. He was scoping out his surroundings, shifty-eyed but careful to keep his head movements slow and subtle. You wondered if he's ever relaxed a day since he started leading this kind of life. Must be exhausting constantly looking over your shoulder. Must be lonely too.
He looked back at you and prodded you again for a response.
"Do you want something else to eat?" he asked looking at your pierced but uneaten shortstack.
You shook your head. He stared at you, somewhat conflicted about what to say next or even what to with you. Your sullen demeanor was making him uneasy. You could tell that he was growing weary of your silence and wasn't sure what approach to take with you. For someone so clever, he sure seemed thick when it came to women.
"Do you want another pop?"
You shook your head again. He rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his eyes, grumbling something under his breath.
"Do you want me to leave you alone, Di?" he asked with a bit more gruff. You shot your eyes up at him and he looked like he immediately regretted taking that tone with you.
"I just mean maybe... I don't know," he sighed, defeated. "You're not making this easy for me." He sat back and crossed his arms. His eyes rested on yours, but they were never entirely present. They were always glancing around cautiously and darting to the door everytime the bell chimed.
You put your fork down with a dramatic sigh. You honestly just wanted to be consoled and comforted and you didn't want to have to ask for it. Why couldn't he just read your mind? Why was that so hard to do?
He reached across the table and grabbed your hand, holding it. Your heart quickened at the surprising gesture. You looked up at him and he suddenly seemed different. The perpetual scowl and dark grin were gone replaced by something that could almost be taken as caring.
"I'm sorry you had to leave your things behind," he said sincerely. He gave your hand an affectionate squeeze. You smiled at him gratefully. Something told you Handsome didn't apologize very often. He took what he wanted without consideration. He did things his own way without any thought of consequence. He was a loner and didn't have to answer to anyone. But he came back for you. He saved you when you were in over your head. And now he's sorry for something. Guess the loner's been pretty lonely up until now.
