Title: John Dillinger, My Saviour.
Summary: Rachel McAdams is now homeless. She's sitting outside a pub, bloody, cut, bruised and crying. After a successful bank robbery, John Dillinger and his gang go to Chicago to celebrate. When they leave a pub, John and three other men are the only sober ones left out of the eight of them. The four of them get their friends into the two cars, John turns and sees Rachel. He approaches her. After finding out her name and some of the reason why she is sitting out in the street, he tells her that she's welcome to stay with him and his friends. What will happen now? And how will Rachel cope with it?
Rated: M.
Warnings: Violence, language and mature content.
Disclaimer: Anything to do with the movie Public Enemies; the characters, the storyline, places belongs to Michael Mann, Ronan Bennett and Ann Biderman. I only own my characters and a few pit stops along the way in the plot. I make no my money from this.
Authors Notes: This chapter is in John's point of view. Anyways, that's enough talking. I hope you like this chapter.
Love Bree,
x
Chapter One.
23rd October, 1933.
10:38pm.
I walked out of a club in Chicago with my gang of seven men; Pete Pierpont, Russell Clark, Charles Makley, Edward W. Shouse Jr., Harry Copeland, James Clark, and John Hamilton. Tonight, we were busy celebrating. You see, earlier today, we completed a bank robbery. This one went down in Greencastle, Indiana, and the unsuspecting bank was the Central National Bank And Trust Co. After the bank robbery was completed, and we were well away from the bank and safe, we counted the money. We had managed to steal seventy-four thousand dollars, and the money was divided equally between the eight of us. Each gang member got nine-thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars. That was something to celebrate about, right? Yeah, and what was the best way to celebrate? Drink yourself until you're blind, and that was exactly what most of the guys did, as well. Pierpont, Hamilton, Copeland and I were the only sober ones, and the other four? They were drunk and pretty much at the point of passing out.
We managed to get the intoxicated men into the two cars we had driven here. I took a step back and turned around, and my dark eyes fell upon a woman. She was sitting on the cement ground with her back against the brick wall of the club, and her legs stretched out in front of her. Her head was buried in her hands. Even in the dim light, and the distance I was standing, I could see the blood on her skin, and I could see the cuts and the bruises. What on earth happened to her? Was she robbed or was it something entirely different? I thought before I looked back at the gang.
"Wait here, I'll be back," I told them before I turned around and made my way over to the woman, not giving the guys the chance to say anything. I stopped beside her and bent down to her level. I reached out to touch her shoulder, but faltered my movements as I didn't want to cause her any more pain if her shoulder was anything like the rest of her body. I sighed as I placed my hand on my knee.
Who could do this to a woman?
"Excuse me, ma'am", I said, softly.
She removed her head from her hands and looked at me. In an instant, my eyes took in her damaged face. She had a black eye, a large bruise on the bridge of her nose and a bruise on her chin. My eyes moved to the cut on her left cheek. The cut was medium in size and looked pretty deep as well. It also looked fresh, maybe a few hours old. My eyes went down to her arms and took in the bruises that covered her skin. My eyes lingered on her arms for a few moments before I looked at her in the eyes for the first time.
"Are you okay?" I asked her and instantly wanted to kick myself. That was a stupid question to ask. Of course, she wasn't okay. You knew that straight away the moment you first look at her.
"He kicked me out. I have no place to live now," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, but I could hear her perfectly.
"Who kicked you out?" I questioned, softly.
"My husband", she answered.
It then clicked, it now made sense. Her husband did this; he abused her and then had the audacity to kick her out. Men like that deserved to be shot, all of them. A woman brought them into this world so they have no right to disrespect one. How could they do that? I could never abuse a woman. I can't even bring myself to raise my voice at one of them. I just can't. I knew how it felt like to be yelled at, to be abused. I was abused as an adolescent. I was a very young child when my mama died and then after that, my childhood was ruined further as my daddy beat me because he had no better way to raise me.
"Why would he do that?" I asked her, even though, I was sure that I knew the reason. I waited for her reply, but it didn't come, and I didn't expect it to come either. Why would she tell me in the first place? I was a stranger to her, a stranger who shared something similar to her yet something entirely different.
"What is your name?" I requested.
"Rachel McAdams", she replied as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
I thought for a few minutes. She couldn't stay on the streets. I knew that. What can I do though? I wanted to help her but how? I wondered. I could ask her if she wanted to come back to the apartment. It was a good idea. I mean, helping her and all, but asking her that seemed so risky. I'm Public Enemy Number One. The G-Men were looking for me and for my men.
It seemed that Rachel didn't know who I was, however, it was possible that she was so caught up in the state she was currently in that she may not recognise me now, but sooner or later that will change. I knew that for a fact. It might not be now, but it could change later tonight, or maybe sometime tomorrow, in a few days in the future or a week from today. The point was that if she realised who I was and she felt scared of me, she'd run straight to the G-Men and tell them where we were hiding out. So, it was either risk the chance of being recognised and help Rachel or don't help her at all. The second option seemed way too selfish. I was a gentleman and I hate seeing a woman like this; beaten and homeless. After I juggled the options, I finally decided what I was going to do.
"Hey Rachel", I started, and she looked over at me. "You know, you're welcome to stay with me and my friends if you like. You can have a shower, get that cut on your face cleaned up, have a hot meal and have a bed to sleep in. You're welcome to stay with us until you work something out."
"I appreciate your offer, really I do, but I can't impose on you and your friends", she answered.
"Rachel, it really is no problem, I mean, I am the one that asked you in the first place", I told her, with a genuine smile.
"Thank you, I mean it. I would like to say yes, but I don't even know your name", she resorted.
I smiled before I told her my name, "Well, Rachel McAdams, my name is John."
"Well John", she started, a small smile on her bruised lips. I almost sighed at that.. "If you don't mind, I think I would like to take you up on that offer."
"I don't mind at all", I replied as I stood up to my full height again and held my hand out to her. She smiled gratefully at me as she took my hand. I helped her to her feet. As we broke all ties of contact, I smiled at Rachel in a friendly matter before I led her to the cars. Once we reached the cars, I earned confused looks from the guys.
"Guys, this is Rachel. As you can see, she is in need of help. So I have offered her to stay with us until she works something out," I told my three sober gang members. "Rachel, these are Pete, Hamilton and Harry." I pointed to them as I said their names. When I looked back at Rachel, I saw a look of realisation cross her face. Oh boy.
"Wait a minute, you're Public Enemy Number One, John Dillinger." She pointed at me, and I sighed and nodded. "And you're Harry Pierpont, John Hamilton and Harry Copeland. You guys are bank robbers."
To be honest, I was waiting for her to run away, screaming that I was here in Chicago. I was surprised at the fact that she didn't run away. She didn't move from her spot beside me.
"Are you scared?" Hamilton spoke for the first time.
She turned to face him. "Surprisingly no", she answered before she looked back at me. I cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Really?" I questioned.
She nodded, "I don't know why but I'm not scared of any of you. To be honest, I feel completely relaxed in your presence, all of you." She told us all, and I sensed no lies in her answer.
"Well that's good", I said and smiled at her. At least, I don't have to worry about that. It does make things easier, much easier. I thought before I turned to the guys. "Now, let's get this show on the road. Pete and Harry, you two go in the other car with Russell and Charles."
"Yes boss", Pete replied as they both nodded. I threw Pete the car keys and with that, they both turned away and walked to the other car. I watched as Pete got into the driver seat, and Harry got into the passenger seat.
"Hamilton and Rachel, you two are with me. Let's go", I told them, and Hamilton threw me the other set of keys to the car we were standing at. I walked around the car to the driver side. I opened the door and looked up at Rachel, who was looking at Hamilton.
"Rachel, you sit in shot gun. It's okay, I'll sit in the back seat with the two drunks." Red said as he opened the door behind the driver seat. He got in, and climbed over Oklahoma Jack and sat in between the two passed out drunks. I closed the door for him before he could.
"Thanks John", I heard him say from inside the car.
"No problem", I replied as I watched Rachel. It seemed she was unaware of me watching her as she opened the car door and got in. The door was closed with a thud.
I sighed, I wish she would talk to me. I have been through what she was going through. I know what it's like to be abused. Maybe then, I could help her. Wait, what? What am I saying? I thought. Rachel was only staying with us for a few days, maybe a week at the most until she gets something worked out. Then, after that, I will never see her again. And that made me feel sad for some reason.
I frowned at my thoughts before I got into the car and closed the door behind me. As I kicked the engine into gear, I felt eyes on me and I looked over to find Rachel staring at me. After I sent her a smile, I turned to my attention back to the road and checked for any cars. When I didn't see any cars, I carefully pulled out of the car space and once we got out, I pushed my foot down on the acceleration pedal and zoomed down the street with the other car behind us.
Reviews are loved and constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope you enjoyed it.
Next chapter will be up soon.
Love Bree,
x.
