My Strict Daddy

Madison giggled and then froze as he pinned her slender arms from behind. There was a second, a split second before the cloth with the chloroform hit her face and dimmed the lights and in that moment, she knew the truth. "That's it," he rocked her to sleep for a minute, probably less, "that's the little fucking princess. Go to sleep. There, there, everything will be alright. Or maybe not for you, little girl," he cackled to himself.

He was surprisingly nimble for an old man and jumped into the van and drug the dead weight of the lifeless girl inside. He made quick work of her wrists and ankles and hogtied her with zip ties. He then secured her with the harness that would keep her from injuring herself if the vehicle had to come to any sudden stops.

He wanted all of the injuries to come from him.

Once he'd placed the gag in her mouth, he jumped down to the pavement again and shut the van door. He locked it before he slid the key inside his coat pocket. No sense in letting her scream back there when he was at a stop sign right next to Chicago PD. He'd waited too long to get caught now.

The dog formerly known as Mr. Pibb barked at him, as if to ask him, hey, what about me?

"Fuck you, go find your home," he snarled at the dog. He'd hated feeding it since he'd stolen it. He hated everything about animals but he sure had come in handy. As a parting gift to the animal that had won him his prize, he gestured to the west. "You live that way, you dumb fucking dog."

***

The Mercedes AMG A35 in Lunar Blue, which Michael decided spur of the moment reminded him of Madison's eyes, was completely irresponsible. It was irresponsible and impractical and probably the worst thing he could buy a nineteen year old girl that he wasn't even sure knew how to drive. Jesus, he hadn't even thought of that. It was the middle of winter in Chicago where potholes and ice could be a death sentence. It did take the curves with a sweet little purr with Michael's steady foot on the gas though. The hum of the motor and the stereo bass pounding in the back made it worth the money. That and the look on her face when she saw him pull up, at least that was what he was hoping for.

That look of forgiveness and tenderness and the light in her eyes that said, "yes, Daddy, kiss me from head to toe." Maybe tonight, after makeup sex, he'd find the words to explain it all, or at least try.

Anything for his beautiful, little girl, Michael sighed and glanced up at the rear view. Anything to get her back, back in his arms, back in his bed. Hell, right now he'd take just back in the car. He needed a slow, deep kiss to confirm that all was forgiven. He'd have his hands in her thick, inky black curls and Madison's breath on his mouth and her small, curvy body pressed against him in the front seat. He was hard with the details, hard and lonely and that was the dangerous position that she had found him in that night when she showed up in his office.

If he could just find her then all would be right in his world, Michael was sure of it. So far, there was no sign of her near the Hogan building. He glanced at his phone and scowled. It was after lunch, she should be leaving any minute now to head to her afternoon library job. Madison had conveniently ignored his fifteen text messages and three voicemails although he didn't blame her. He'd been so obtuse, not just about her birthday, about everything. How many nights had he promised the god that he didn't really believe in that he'd give it all up to have Rosemary back? Since the idea had popped into his head this morning, it had sung, like a choir. It was crazy but Michael felt in his bones that it was his deliverance, his salvation.

Just leave.

He could picture teaching her to drive on a slow, back road to nowhere. Somewhere perpetually warm, somewhere he could just be Michael and she could just be with him.

There was no sign of her twenty minutes later and Michael sent her one last text, one last attempt. Please, he thought as he asked, "Are you already at work? I have a surprise."

Maybe she was already having her other plans which didn't include her doting father but probably did include Steve, whoever the fuck he was. Some teenage boy, all hands and dick and stupid hormones but wasn't that what she was supposed to have? Hadn't she reached out to him for some help and a normal life? Was the Mercedes really going to make up for that?

Even though it was killing him, Michael knew that he didn't have a choice. He would just have to go home and wait. Wait and pace and stalk her bedroom and look out the windows and stare at his phone until he felt a little more crazy than usual. He might be Icepick Romano but in all things regarding the heart, he melted like a puddle at her feet. All Madison had to do was snap her little fingers and her wish was his command.

It had always been that way since the day she was born.

***

Michael had given up pacing an hour ago and settled in his bedroom. He was still far from sleep but he made himself get into bed. It was a little after one and not a peep from Madison, not a text, nothing. His little girl must really be angry and Michael just hoped that he'd get the chance to make it up to her.

He had so much to atone for.

He wanted to begin with a getaway, or at least that's what he'd call it. Madison was smart, brilliant really, and she could finish school anywhere they went. There was no need to be weighed down by the suddenly oppressive cold and the suddenly oppressive past. They could make a clean break, somewhere warm and slow, where sticky afternoons would require bikinis and a hammock and a cold glass that left behind a cool, icy trail on her bare skin.

Madison was already used to starting over. Hadn't she said that she and Charlotte had done it dozens of times? Hell, she'd already ditched her real name for a whole new identity, one that she preferred over her given name. How much easier would this be if he weren't Romano; the Romano, the obvious one to inherit the throne? They could have it back, all he wanted was his fairy princess.

Madison, he whispered her name, all alone in the bedroom and he'd never felt the loneliness like this. It came over him like a wave, a wave that knocked the wind out of him. What if she had already left? What if it were too late?

Could he even go back to the way things had been before her?

Michael stripped and settled under the covers and left the light on the nightstand so he could see the phone without the readers. Once he felt the sheets on his skin, every nerve came alive. It was almost as if the sheets were still warm from her body. In fact her scent still lingered here. Her flowery shampoo and ridiculous perfume that was reminiscent of bubble gum. All of her innocent, girlish scents were wrapped up here in his sheets. The night they first made love seemed so long ago and yet it was just a few days. Would this be all he had to remember her by?

He closed his eyes and Michael held the pillow close and buried his face there. Madison, his beautiful girl, she was there in his bed, arms open, taking him back into her sunshine. "Daddy," he could almost hear her whisper, almost feel her breath on his neck. He could almost feel her mouth.

"May I kiss you, little girl?" he would ask, as if he had a choice.

Michael could feel Madison's little fingers on his forearms, her touch sending a rush of goosebumps down his spine. "Please, Daddy," she would say in that little girl voice that drove him crazy, "I want you to."

This kiss would be gentle. It would be a butterfly's wings, just a breath and the most tender press of lips. It would be a fatherly kiss, at least to begin with. With his arms around her, the intoxicating touch of her perfection on him, he would be drunk on it in no time. The need for more ran through his veins and pulsed inside, he couldn't help himself. Michael would open his mouth and touch the underneath side of her full, upper lip with his tongue, just one illicit, lingering taste of his daughter.

She would shiver as she clung to him. "Daddy," she would say it in her breathless half-whisper, half moan that took him to the edge.

He would be voracious then. He'd possess her mouth completely, he'd drink down her breath and fill her with his. In his mind's eye, Madison was there and she was once again naked in her father's bed. Naked and warm and every inch of her body was velvet and hot and his, just his to meander over every inch. They melted together more with every kitten sigh that came from her core. Her button nipples pressed against him, brushed his chest, burned the flesh they touched. Madison's buttery skin, her pale belly, her perfect thighs open and one wrapped around his leg, all of her open and wanting him. There, between her thighs, she was molten and slippery, her sweetness already dripped to the sheets below, the sheets marked with her virginity. "Little girl," he could hear how his voice shook with pent-up desire, "you're so wet."

Michael whispered into the pillow which was really Madison's neck and his fingers slowly delved down her teenage flesh. His daughter, so perfect, so perfect for him. Michael could almost feel her open her legs as if she were begging for him to touch her. It was so wrong. It was the last thing a father should do, touch his little girl there, her secret little wet place. But what was he to do when she panted as his finger slid up her crevice? She purred and pushed her hips up as she begged, "yes, Daddy, I want you." Michael could hear her as his index finger circled her ripe bud and there was no denying her anything she wanted.

With his other hand on his cock, he pleasured her as well as himself. His dick jolted in his hand as he slipped a finger inside. Yes, dripping for him, she needed this, she needed Daddy. "Baby, oh god, my sweetheart," he exclaimed as he pushed one finger and then a second into her seeping, little pussy. Tight, still so tight as if he hadn't fucked every last inch of his dick inside, tight and satiny and wet as rain. Perfect really, just like the rest of her and when he arched his back as he stroked himself, Michael knew that he wouldn't last long even just in his imagination.

He wanted to make her cum in his hand. He wanted her dripping and sobbing. He wanted her yo push her hips into him and grind like a little girl would as she surrendered. Michael wanted to watch that and lick the sweet juice from his palm before wandering down her molten flesh to her open thighs. The taste of her, god, he moaned as he jacked off into the sheets. He wanted to feel her cum on his lips, rivulets of her cream as it ran down his throat, covered in her, all of her.

"Madison," he cried out as the orgasm tore from his body, pulse after pulse of his incessant need for her ripped from his deep inside. Every last drop was for her and Michael knew as he shuddered in the dark that even if he never saw her again, it always would be.

Fuck, in love with his own daughter, how could he have expected a happy ending? Star crossed and so crazy about her, covered in cum and cuddling the pillow that smelled of her, Michael sighed. For tonight he was going to hang onto the getaway fantasy. Everything else was too heartbreaking.

His phone pinged and he quickly grabbed it. His mind raced as he swiped, whispering, "please baby girl."

It wasn't her. The number was unknown. The text message was a picture and Michael mumbled, "what the fuck," as it downloaded. If this was Roz being cute, trying to send him some of her skanks tonight, he was going to call her and straighten her out.

When the picture opened, he froze. It was impossible to breathe until Michael had run out of air and gasped. "Jesus," he whispered, he shook as he saw her come to life. Like a nightmare from the past, Madison was wearing the purple dress but now it had been torn from top to bottom and she was exposed. Hands tied overhead, ankles secured as well, she was strung up to bolts in a cement wall. A black blindfold hid her stormy eyes from view but Michael knew that they must be terrified. Under the picture, the text read only, "I scream a lot Daddy."

***

He hadn't called Irv in the middle of the night since Charlotte had gone missing but this was why Irv Goldin made a fortune representing Icepick Romano. The old man must have been out for the night. The landline rang four times before he picked up and asked in a faraway voice, "hello?"

"It's me. Someone took Madison," Michael didn't even want to say it out loud, it made it true. "She's been kidnapped."

"Michael?" The old man suddenly sounded as awake as he would be in the middle of the day. It was that kind of news. "How do you know? Did they make contact?"

Michael was still shaking from it, "Yes, motherfucker sent me a picture of her tied to a wall." He swallowed hard, it was painful to say, "her dress is ripped in two, she's blindfolded."

Irv whistled quietly, "Son of a bitch, I'm so sorry, Michael. Anything else? Has he called?"

"Not yet." It had only been two hours since Michael got the picture but the bastard could have had Madison all day. His heart was in his throat when he thought of that.

Irv already had an idea and that's why he was worth the price, whatever it was. "I've got this kid, a hacker, little shit cracked the State's Attorney's server in about three minutes. Anyway, his name is Pete, I'll send him over. I bet you anything that this fucking Russian kid will find your kidnapper before any fucking cops could."

"No cops, Irv," Michael shook his head. The fucking Chicago police were dirtier than the Romano family. The last thing he needed was a bunch of macho idiots with guns trying to settle something to get headlines. No, this had to be done with finesse.

"No, no of course not, Michael," Irv agreed. "Those cocksuckers would make a mess of things. Let's get the kid to work on your picture, see what he finds."

"You know where to send him," Michael told him before hanging up.

Pete was fast. The young man sat in Michael's office before he'd had the chance to put on a shirt and tie. Pete looked to be no older than Madison. He was a skinny boy with bad skin and a choppy haircut that was dyed half black and half purple. He chewed gum so hard that his jaw clicked and he cracked his knuckles constantly. Michael didn't have much confidence in Irv's assessment until the kid brought out his laptop. The way his fingers flew over the keyboard seemed impressive. "This is all you've got?" Pete asked, glancing at the picture.

Michael simply nodded. He couldn't bear to talk about it anymore. All he could hear was his heart throbbing in his temples, the rush of blood was louder and almost frightening. When he thought about it, all his horrific imagination could picture was scene after scene of all the horror that he imagined was happening to her right now. If she was dead, if it was too late, if this wasn't really a kidnapping, all the if's could kill him. If he lost her forever, then the last thing that he would do would be hunt down whoever did this.

That's all he'd be good for at that point.

One of Paulie's guys knocked at the open door, "Got a second, boss?"

Michael waved him in and watched as he pushed another young man in front of him. "Sit there," he prompted the blonde kid and then pointed at Michael, "now tell the man what you told me."

Michael wanted to know, "Who is this?"

"His name is Steve something or other," this must be the illustrious Steve who took Michael's little girl out on a date. "He works with Madison. They were supposed to go out tonight," he shrugged as if he didn't want to suggest what he definitely was suggesting.

Steve looked like he might shit his pants and if the occasion were any different, Michael would enjoy seeing that. "Is that true? You and Madison were going out tonight?" He kept his voice soft. Michael really couldn't blame the kid for being gaga over Madison but he better not have ever done more than kiss his daughter.

Steve trembled all over as he shook his head. He had an athletic build and chocolate, brown eyes. Michael could even concede that he looked like a nice kid. He was the boy next door. Hardly in Madison's league, but who would be? "Yes sir," his voice squeaked at the end. Madison would have probably found that adorable, the squeak and the skinny jeans and the tee shirt with a band he'd never heard of on it. Steve was probably adorable to teenage girls and as much as Michael didn't want to admit it, that included Madison. The boy continued, "except she never showed up for work today, which isn't like her. I've been calling and texting her all afternoon."

The boy looked down, dejected. He probably had spent the whole night assuming that Madison was mad at him or off on a better date with someone else. Michael could sympathize. "Steve, do you know if she was at school today?" Maybe they would have a timeline if nothing else.

Steve fumbled in his pocket and procured his phone as evidence. "Her friend Deanna said she was a no-show this morning too." The boy's hand shook and Michael bet it was sweaty too. He was a good kid for agreeing to come along with a stranger to try to help Madison. "That's when I started to get worried," his voice squeaked again.

If she never showed up for class, that meant she could have been taken anytime after 8:30 when she had stormed out of the front door. Michael checked his watch, it was almost 4 am, which meant they were coming up on the 24 hour mark. His stomach flipped, even the cops knew how crucial the first 24 hours were. "Thanks Steve," Michael extended his hand and shook the boy's. "This helps a lot and if you don't mind sticking around, that would be great."

Steve nodded. What was he going to say? By now, even the boy had to recognize him from the news and who said no to Icepick Romano?

Paulie entered the office with a bang. "Got her on a camera, boss," he snapped.

"What?" Michael reached out for it, whatever it was. Whatever proof there was that Madison was still amongst the living, he had to have it now.

"It's the security footage outside this coffee shop across the street from her morning class," Paulie explained. "I had to knock some heads to get it, but fuck it. We'll buy all their donuts or something. Look," he pointed at the television on the wall, "there's our girl."

Under normal circumstances Michael would have taken offense to "our girl" but at the moment, it was endearing. Everyone loved Madison, you just couldn't help it. So did, apparently, the old man with the dog on the bench outside the bakery. Madison sat and pet the dog, they seemed to know each other. A minute later, Madison rose and took the dog's leash, walking with the old man to an unknown destination.

"She was there at 9:27," Paulie was excited as he pointed at the time. "Now we just gotta get some other footage up the block and see where the fuck she goes with that old geezer."

"Wait, we have a technical guy here," Michael pointed at Pete who was still typing away furiously. "Irv sent him, supposed to be able to hack into shit. Hey, Pete," Michael waved to get the geeky boy's attention.

Pete looked up, bug eyed, "I'm sorry, I don't have anything yet. Whoever it is, they're using encryption software and a burner phone. It's a little more than I expected."

Fuck, so it was someone who knew what they were doing, which meant someone had gone to the trouble of hiring a contractor. Either that or it wasn't anyone Michael suspected. "Not to worry," Michael tried to sound as if his whole world wasn't hanging in the balance. "Talk to Paulie, let's see if you can't get us some more security camera footage, okay?"

Pete nodded in agreement and gestured to Paulie, "Can you come over here and give me the address?"

As Pete worked on the laptop, Michael's cell phone lay in plain view and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the awful picture of his beautiful, little girl. Tied and dress torn, helpless and all alone somewhere in the dark, he had to get to her and quickly. God knows what might have already happened to her. Michael knew what he would have done if the situation were reversed. He bit his hand hard to keep the sound inside, the desperate sound of a broken man.