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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Say it again," you whispered against Tommy's lips. Tommy's mouth pulled into a half grin. "Mrs. Holland," he said, straightening his tie. You were sitting on the credenza, blocking his view in the mirror.
"Di," he said, nodding at you to get out of it the way.
"Sorry," you said with a smirk and hopped off. You sauntered over to the window, peeking through the curtain. There was a beggar man talking to some fine looking gentleman by the gas pumps. The poor soul looked like he'd been dragged behind a horse plough from here to Wichita and back. He motioned to a woman a few yards away, who was holding the hands of two young children. Her belly protruded with the makings of another. The Okie clasped his hands together. He seemed to be pleading with the gentleman for something, all he got in return was a rude stare. He took a handkerchief out and started wiping the dust from the hood of the gentleman's ornate Dusenberg. He only got a few stroke in when the gentleman shoved him, screaming obscenities at him. The poor Okie stumbled back and fell on his bum from the force. He looked about 120 lbs. soaking wet. You narrowed your eyes and gave a little huff when he fell.
"What?" Tommy asked from the mirror but you ignored him, continuing to watch. The woman covered her mouth, her eyes were wide and shiny with despair. Your heart went out to her. It was just like the migrants you saw on the side of the road. The number of desperate people just kept growing and people like Dapper Dan here in their high castles, just wished they'd disappear.
The Okie took his hat off and placed it on his chest, bowing his head apologetically as he backed away towards his family. Then the gentleman, with a roll of his eyes, flicked his lit cigarette right in the man's face. Suppose he feels he can treat every day folk like dirt. Suppose you wouldn't have really thought twice about it before. But that was before Tommy opened your eyes to empathy and compassion. That was before you understood that new shoes sure sound nice but a child with a belly full of food was nicer. Who would have thought your biggest lesson in kindness would come from the devil himself?
You flung the curtain shut with another huff and marched over to your purse. Tommy's eyes followed you in the mirror. His hands were frozen on his tie in mid knot when he spoke.
"Di....what are you," he started to say but your gun was already nestled in you grip and the door was slamming behind you.
You clasped your hands behind your back, hiding the gun from view as you sashayed over to the dapper Dan man. You heard Tommy hiss at you from the door.
"Di...get back here!" he whisper yelled at you but your sights were already set and your pistol was already cocked.
"Hey Mister!" you shouted storming across the lot.
"For fuck's sake, Di, put the piece away," Tommy growled behind you, catching up. You continued your approach, wrenching your arm away when you felt his fingers brush against it.
The gentleman and Okie both looked over at the same time. You plastered that ever so innocent smile across your face and skipped over to dapper Dan, bouncing and jiggling in all the right places. His eyes lit up and he took his hat off like the fine gentleman he was.
"Well, hello there, kitten," he said with a smarmy smile. You thought if ever a snake had grown legs and fastened a tie, then he'd be standing right in front of you. You flipped your head and heaved your breasts with your reply.
"Hi, Mister, I think you forgot something," you nodded at the cigarette, a thin string of smoke still snaked up from the tip. The gentleman looked down at it, then back up to you without saying a word. Tommy kept his distance, face hidden in the shadow of his fedora. He lit a cigarette of his own and paced nonchalantly under the eaves of the motel. Just another joe outside, enjoying a smoke. Except this joe had all his belongings on his back. Your handsome devil was always ready to run.
The Okie stood by his family, hands raised like he didn't want any trouble. Dapper Dan looked over at them with disgust, settling his hat back on his head.
"Run along, kitten," he said dismissively. His eyes traveled up and down your body with a sneer. Like he would just have his way with you then throw you out with the rest of the trash. 'Cause that's all the likes of you are to the likes of him. And that's all anyone's gonna be that's not sitting behind the wheel of some fancy ride like this fella.
You brought your gun into view and raised it to the gentleman's face. His eyes bulged out of their sockets but he just couldn't help but keep that sniveling sneer on his face.
"Eat it," you said, glaring at him.
"Christ, Di," you heard Tommy grumble coming up next to you.
"What?" Dapper Dan looked at you stupidly. You kicked the cigarette butt with the toe of your shoe and repeated your command.
"Eat it," you said again.
"You're causing a scene...," Tommy murmured with a clenched jaw. His head whipped around left and right, looking for signs of trouble.
You tilted your head at the gentleman, who made no moves to do anything you ordered. He just leered at the gun, then at your breasts.
"If you want something hot to hold onto, kitten, I've got something for you," he smirked.
Without a word, Tommy kicked Dapper Dan right in the knee with such a quick force, he went down in howling pain before you could even process what happened.
Tommy bent over, smoothing back a curl that came loose from his action. His eyes were cold and unfeeling, but his tone meant business.
"You'll bloody well do what the lady says," he seethed at the gentleman, who was clutching his knee, red faced, down in the dirt, where he belonged.
"Shhh...," you said, squatting next to him. You pressed the barrel against his head with an angelic smile. Tommy watched you with unease but you were in complete control. You always were in complete control with joes like these. Arrogant, good-for-nothing joes with a roll of dough in their pockets and an expectation that made them think they could just get away with anything.
"Just one swallow. That's all you gotta do," you coaxed him, smiling sweetly, pressing the iron hard enough to leave an impression on his forehead.
Dapper Dan grabbed the cigarette and put it his sniveling, sweaty mouth.
"Uh uh uhhh," you punctuated each syllable with a tap of the barrel. "Swallow," you said.
You watched him struggle to gulp down the dry and dust coated butt. He sputtered and coughed but after much effort, it disappeared down that fat throat of his. You stood up with a satisfied smile.
"There we go, big fella!" you laughed and looked over at Tommy who was eyeing you with an indescribable expression. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was afraid of you. Suppose that's not entirely a bad thing. Every man should be a little terrified of his lady. We're the ones that bring them into the world. We can easily be the ones to take them out.
Dapper Dan, struggled to his feet, limping and wiping at his trousers.
"That broad's fucking crazy," he shouted, pointing at you. He wasn't talking to anyone in particular and certainly Tommy was already keen on that piece of information.
"I'm not a broad. I'm Dollface Di," you said with pride then raised your gun again.
