*Author's Note: For those who asked me what Cassidy looked like more specifically, I ask you to imagine a young Alexis Bledel, as seen in this picture here: .net/high_res/alexis_bledel_freckles_
Also: Thank you all for the well wishes! As you can see, my surgery went well, and while my wrist does hurt a little, I can type slow, but well.
Daddy's Girl
Chapter 7: Trouble
"Hey there, kid." Larry gave Michael his trademark smile.
"What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing out of jail, you mean?" Larry stopped smiling and motioned for Michael to put his hands up. Michael put down his yogurt and backed out of the kitchen, Larry following him. "Well kid, I had to do some fancy talking, but I stayed out of trouble." Michael stopped by a chair at his mother's table. "Put your hands up, Michael."
Michael complied, and Larry patted Michael down before he sat down and Larry zip-tied Michael's hands and ankles to the chair. "Well Larry, as nice as it is to see you-" Michael began.
Larry backhanded him, silencing him. "Shut it! No more playing nice anymore, Mikey. You cost me a lot of money with that little stunt you pulled, and more for me to stay off the grid and out of trouble! And now you're going to get my money back for me."
"And why would I do that, Larry?" Michael asked.
Larry laughed, pointing the gun at Michael again. "Because while you'd be willing to die for something or someone you care about, you are way too high minded to let someone die for you if you can help it."
The door handle turned, and Cassidy bounded in, laden with colorful shopping bags in her good hand. "Dad I had so much fun…" Cassidy stopped seeing the gun that was now pointed in her direction.
"Cassidy- RUN!" Michael yelled, but Cassidy was frozen by fear, letting go of the bags and holding up her hands.
"'Dad'?" asked Larry. He looked from Cassidy to Michael and back, and began laughing as Michael's stomach dropped like a stone. "Oh…oh Michael… This is too good!" Larry laughed. "I was going to take Mama Westen, but baby Westen? That's even better!"
"Larry- I swear if you hurt her-"
"You'll do what?" Snarled Larry into Michael's face. Pulling back, he smiled again. "You know, I'm wounded you didn't invite me to the Christening, Michael." Mocked Larry. "And don't worry, Michael. Do what I want, and your little girl will be just fine." Larry looked at Cassidy. "Come here, kid." Cassidy hesitated, looking to Michael. Michael nodded, and it almost killed him. Cassidy walked to Larry slowly. "Good girl," said Larry, grabbing her arm. "You and I are going for a little ride, and you're going to be a good girl, aren't you?"
"Cassie, just listen to him. I'll see you soon."
Cassidy nodded, her eyes wide with fear. "Okay Dad."
"I'll call you soon, Michael. We have work to do."
"Dad!" Cassidy called, reaching out with her cast-incased arm towards her father.
Her panic-stricken tone cut through his calm exterior. Michael rocked in his chair, trying to break loose, but succeeding only in tipping over. "Cassie!" he screamed, roaring in his frustration. He heard the sound of Cassidy screaming, the slam of a trunk, and the sound of an engine roaring to life. "Cassidy…" Michael whispered, closing his eyes and resting his head against the floor. "Damn it!"
When Madeline came home with groceries, she saw that the backdoor was open, and figured that Cassidy had once again left it open. "Michael, you really need- Michael!" Madeline dropped the bag she was carrying when she saw her son laying on the floor, strapped to a chair, his head lolling to one side.
"Mom?" Michael's head lifted and turned towards her. "Mom! I need you to get me out of this chair!"
"What the hell happened, Michael?" his mother asked, digging in a drawer for a pair of scissors.
"Larry happened. He took Cassidy."
"Larry? Who the hell is Larry? And why did he take my granddaughter?" Madeline demanded as she bent down, cutting the cable ties that bound her son to the chair.
Michael massaged circulation back into his limbs before he stood- if he rolled his ankle, he wouldn't be much use to anyone. "Larry is an old work acquaintance who has the unfortunate habit of coming back from the dead. I cost him a lot of money when Vaughn went down, and he wants his money back."
"Well how much?"
"More than I could get legally. I have to call Sam and Fiona." Michael pulled out his cell phone and dialed Fiona's number.
"Hello Michael. Did you like Cassie's new clothes?" Fiona's voice held a smile on the other end of the phone.
"I haven't even seen them- Larry interrupted."
"Larry? What happened?"
"He's got her, Fi. The psychotic son of a bitch has my daughter."
"I'll be right there, Michael." Fiona said before she hung up.
Michael called Sam next. "Sam, where are you?"
"I'm at The Carlito with Jesse. Poor kid was going stir crazy hobbling around his place, so I figured I'd take him out for a drink. Why?"
Michael sighed. "Larry's back. He took Cassidy."
Sam swore violently. "Ah damn it Mike! I knew I should have shot that bastard when I had the chance!"
"Yeah well Sam I may just let you this time. How fast can you get over here?"
"We'll be there as soon as we can buddy."
"Thanks, Sam." Michael put away the phone and turned to see his mother quietly crying in the kitchen. "Mom?"
"Oh Michael…how can you be so calm? He has your daughter! What if she gets hurt?"
"Mom, please trust me. I am not nearly as calm as I look. But I have to stay calm and think straight so I can play it smart and get her back safely."
"Can you get her back? Without doing something terrible?"
"I'll get her back safe if it kills me." Michael's blue eyes were cold and hard.
When Fiona got there, Michael had moved Cassidy's moved shopping bags into the living room. There he sat, staring at the picture his mother had taken of he and Cassidy in front of the charger what seemed like a lifetime ago.
"Michael?" Fiona whispered.
"I'm a terrible father Fi."
"What are you talking about?" exclaimed Fiona
Michael laughed harshly and threw down the picture, running his fingers through his hair. "I've been in her life less that a month and she's had a gun pointed at her twice, her arm broken, her cheek fractured, she's overheard us having sex, and she's been kidnapped by a psychopath that I should have let Sam give an acute case of lead poisoning!"
"Michael, all those things aren't your fault!" Fiona cried, exasperated. "You need to stop blaming yourself and start thinking! What does he want from you?"
"Money. We cost him when you and Jesse blew that safe out of the wall and stole the flash drive back."
"So this is a ransom?"
"More like kidnapping and extortion."
"Did he say how much?"
"No, but he was working with Brennan, who had no shortage of cash."
The door opened and Sam and Jesse came in. "Mike?" boomed Sam.
"Here, Sam."
"Have you heard anything, Mikey?"
"Nothing." Michael sighed.
"Mike," said Sam, "she's going to be okay. Larry won't hurt her. She's too valuable right now to him."
"She's also seen his face, Sam. There's no way he's going to let her live. He's too pissed at me and too afraid of getting caught by the authorities." Michael replied. "The only way we're getting her back alive and stopping him once and for all is to make sure that we find out where he has her and get her back."
Cassidy screamed and kicked as the man her father had called Larry shoved her into the trunk, whacking her cast on his shoulder a few times. It hurt like hell, but it was better than passively being kidnapped. When the trunk slammed shut, she beat the lid above her with her good hand, but stopped after her hand started to hurt. Groping in the darkness, she left for the trunk release latch but couldn't find it. Stopping and thinking, she slowed her breathing and tried to calm down. She wished, not for the first time, that she had a cell phone, but she hadn't gotten around to asking her father for one yet. The car went over a bump or a pothole, bouncing her up before she landed hard on her side, and making the taillights rattle. 'That's it!' Cassidy thought to herself. She remembered a movie where someone had been kidnapped and had kicked out the taillight to get the police to stop the car. Cassidy kicked hard again and again at the light by her foot. She was about to give up when it gave a satisfying crunch and fell out to dangle by its wires, making Cassidy smile; even if the cops didn't stop, she would have successfully aggravated her captor. She watched the pavement fly from the empty whole by for what seemed like forever before the car turned down a disused dirt road, rutted and overgrown with weeds.
The ride wasn't smooth, and more than once she was knocked about the inside of the trunk. When they finally stopped, Cassidy heard the door open and slam shut, and her captor's feet crunching the gravel. When he reached the end of the car, she was gratified to hear him swear. She gathered her nerve and flexed her good hand. When he opened the trunk, saying, "What the hell-", Cassidy brought her foot up and caught him in the mouth, surprising him and knocking him back. She rolled out of the trunk and landed heavily on her bad arm, ready to run. She was unprepared for how fast he recovered, bending down and grabbing her by the back of the neck. She brought her good hand up and slashed her nails down his face, drawing blood before he got her in a good hold and she was unable to strike at him. He started to drag her along, but she fought and kicked at him, refusing to make it easy. Finally, he seemed to have had enough, and let go of her unexpectedly, sending her sprawling.
Cassidy looked up and saw that the man had pulled out his gun and had it pointed at her, her expression dark.
"Kid," Larry said to her tersely, "I have killed people for less than the crap you just pulled."
"Go to hell!" Cassidy snapped back, gripping a rock as she got up.
Larry laughed. "Oh you are definitely Michael Westen's daughter! Same spunk, same blind stubbornness." Larry shook his head.
Cassidy took her chance and chucked the rock at his head, barely missing and causing him to flinch. Using her cast, she hit him hard in the windpipe when he came back up. He choked as she hit him, but he was tougher than she knew, and knocked her down to the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her. Larry rolled her over and took another zip-tie from his pocket and bound her hands behind her back.
Coughing a few times, he bent down and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder. "I should have known," Larry said, more to himself than her, "That any kid of Mike's would be a pain in the ass!" He dumped her onto an old mattress and rubbed his throat. "You're good, kid. It's been a while since someone got the drop on me."
"Untie my arms and I'll drop you for real!" Cassidy retorted, baring her teeth.
Larry studied her for a moment before walking away. When he came back, he dragged a chair behind him. "Alright, kid, you've got a choice. Either I knock you out with some chloroform I have, which makes you wake up with a screaming headache I might add, or you stand up and come and sit in this chair. No more fighting me, though, or I might start to think you're more trouble than you're worth."
Cassidy eyed him. Finally she said, "This mattress stinks. That chair at least looks clean."
Larry smiled. "Smart girl."
Cassidy carefully got up and walked over to him. When she stood by the chair, she turned her back to him. Larry took out a knife and cut the tie, and she rolled her shoulders before sitting in the chair with as much dignity as she could muster. Larry laughed as he bound her hands to the arms of the wooden chair. "You're more like your father than you know kid. Did he teach you to fight like that?"
"No."
"No?"
"I've been taking karate since I was five. I'm going for my black belt next month."
"How old are you?"
"I'll be 15 soon."
"Where's your mom?" Larry asked innocently.
"She's dead. What do you want? 'Cause I know it's not just to get to know me!"
"You must get those smarts from your father. I used to work with him, you know."
"And dinosaurs used to walk the earth- what's your point?"
"Feisty little thing, aren't you? What's your name again kid? I heard Michael say… Cassie?"
"Cassidy."
"Well, Miss Cassidy Westen-"
"St. James."
"What?"
"My last name is St. James."
"I thought you were Michael's kid."
"I am."
"But-" Larry realized something. "You're almost 15. Michael…he never knew about you did he?"
"No. We just met before my mother died."
Understanding dawned. "Well, Miss St. James, as it happens, your daddy is going to do what he should have done weeks ago: get me my money."
"So I'm being ransomed? How much am I worth?"
"To your father? Whatever I want." Replied Larry. "And since he cost me my retirement fund, I want quite a hefty sum."
HHHH