Rescuing Rita

by Pepper North

  He was her Daddy. The one she’d searched for throughout all her fantasies. Bart filled a hole in her life that she’d never expected to have completed. Minutes went by as he held her in his arms. Finally recovering, Rita kissed his muscle-corded neck.

  “It’s okay, Ritagirl. Daddy understands. Littles need to test their boundaries from time to time. Daddies should always be there to help guide them. I will always be there for you, Little girl,” he promised.

  “Are you sure you want me for your Little? I’m kind of a mess,” she whispered.

  “There isn’t a doubt in my mind, Ritagirl. You are mine.”

  Chapter 21

  Bart maneuvered the truck through the heavy rush hour traffic with skill. His Little sat right next to his side. He patted her thigh lightly. “We’re almost there. Are you ready to talk to the police officer?”

  “Can you take this… thing out of me? You know, before?” Rita asked, looking up at him hopefully.

  “No. You need a reminder that your Daddy loves you and that he’s going to protect you,” Bart said as if the plug was nothing more than a string wrapped around her finger.

  “Do you think they’ll know?” she worried.

  “No one will know but you and me,” he reassured her. His hand wrapped around hers as they twisted in her lap.

  She looked up at him. Her mouth was pulled tight, almost obscuring her red lips. “I’m scared, Daddy.”

  “I know. It’s going to be okay. We’ll take care of making the official report now that you can remember what happened, and the police will pick Eddie up. Then, you won’t have to worry about him at all,” Bart reassured her as he pulled into the public lot next to the police station.

  Parking the truck in the first available space, Bart reached over the seat to pull a jacket from the back. “Let’s wrap you up a bit,” he instructed, holding it up for her to slip her arm into.

  “I’m not cold, Daddy,” she hesitated. Her eyes widened as she realized that Bart wanted her to wear it more for concealment than for warmth. “You want me to hide?” she asked in a small, frightened voice.

  “I want you to be safe. No one is going to hurt you. I will be right there with you,” he promised as he helped her put on the oversized jacket.

  Bart opened his door and went around to the passenger side to help his Little out of the truck. When her feet touched the pavement, she gasped slightly. His smile revealed he knew the plug inside her was making itself known.

  “I’m never going to misbehave again, Daddy,” she fervently promised.

  Bart winked and wrapped his arm around her to sweep her away from the pickup. With a thud and a beep, he closed the door and locked it. Guiding his precious Little to the front entrance, Bart scanned the area. He didn’t expect anyone to be stupid enough to approach them within feet of the entrance, but who knew?

  Opening the door, he ushered Rita into the large building. The interior was industrial and free of any decorations or relief from the stark gray of the walls. They identified themselves at the desk and soon were met by Officer Hamilton. Bart apologized for their lateness as they walked back to the interview room.

  Two hours later, the officer walked them back to the entrance. Although there were still a few blank spots in her memory, Rita’s description of that awful night had been taped and transcribed. Officer Hamilton had put out a warrant for his arrest along with Eddie Shaffer’s picture from the security cameras at the poolhall.

  The warrant for Eddie’s supplier included the words armed and dangerous. He had not been involved in Rita’s abduction, but the police wanted to talk to him on suspicion of drug trafficking. He’d been identified as Carl Frennon and had two prior convictions for petty crimes. It looked as if he’d continued his life of crime.

  When finally, Bart secured his Little’s seatbelt in the truck and slid in beside her, Rita was exhausted, and her head was pounding. He drove to a deserted parking lot roughly three blocks from the police station. Parking with the passenger door facing a large privacy fence, Bart jumped out of the truck and came around to her side.

  “What are we doing?” Rita asked as he unbuckled her seatbelt.

  “I think that plug has served its purpose. Will you remember to listen to your Daddy from now on?” His eyes studied her face.

  “Yes, Daddy! You’ll never have to put a plug in my bottom again,” she rushed to assure him. Looking around, she nervously questioned, “But here? What if someone sees?”

  “No one will see,” he assured her before reclining her seat and helping his Little roll over on her tummy. Quickly dispensing of her pants and diaper, Bart spread her buttocks widely to grasp the base that rested snuggly against her puckered opening. With a twist, he pulled it smoothly from her bottom and stored it in a plastic bag from the back. He’d clean it later.

  Restoring her clothing, Bart helped her sit up as he raised the chair so she could look out the windshield. They were soon on their way back to SANCTUM. Her cute wiggles of relief in her seat made him smile.

  With the plug removed, Rita’s attention shifted. She leaned down to grab the handle of her purse that the officer had returned to her from the bar. The Little knew that she should send a message to her friends at the bar, but she couldn’t focus. Using the excuse that her phone was surely dead anyway, she let go of the strap allowing the purse to drop to the floorboards.

  Suddenly exhausted, Rita asked in a small voice, “Can I lie back down? I’ll be really good,” she promised.

  “Let me get out of the city traffic, and we’ll adjust the seat to let you lie back. Drink your water,” he ordered, pointing to the bottle of water that she had been given at the police station.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she said with a smile breaking through the fatigue etched on her face. Unscrewing the top, she had a big drink.

  “I love to hear that,” he replied.

  “I like to say it.” Rita recapped the bottle and slid it between her thighs. Laying her head on his shoulder, she crashed into sleep.

  Chapter 22

  When they cleared the city traffic, Bart knew a car was following him. He’d noticed it behind him about a mile from the police station when it raced through a red light to keep following him. Unwilling to accuse an innocent driver of tailing them, Bart had turned back and forth through several side streets to make sure. Now outside the city, there was no doubt.

  Reaching into his pocket, Bart dialed Doug Hamilton’s cell phone. “Bart Jennings here. I have a battered blue sedan following me. There are two men in the front seat.”

  His voice woke Rita up. She turned to watch him with growing concern. He watched her peek over her shoulder at the car as he answered the officer’s questions. Bart nudged her gently to signal her to turn back around. When the conversation finished, Bart slid the phone back into his shirt pocket.

  “We’re being followed. Officer Hamilton is dispatching cars in the area to converge on our location. Don’t look back. If we’re lucky, they’ll just lurk back there until we’re far away from the city. That will give the police time to catch up with us,” he explained, monitoring the car behind them.

  “I don’t like this,” Rita whined.

  He could hear how nervous she was. “It will be okay, honey. The police are going to come for them. Here’s what I want you to do. Get my phone from my pocket and find Mitch’s number in the directory. Call him for me, Ritagirl,” Bart instructed, giving her a job to do that would help distract her from the menace behind them.

  “Put it on speaker,” he asked softly as she tried to hand him back the phone. When it began to ring out loud, Bart murmured, “Good girl!” He returned the smile she flashed him.

  “Hello,” a deep voice answered the phone.

  “Mitch? This is Bart. I’ve got a problem. First, let me tell you I have you on speakerphone, and Rita is sitting here in the truck with me,” Bart warned his friend that the Little was listening. Mitch would know to buffer his reaction to keep the Little from getting more fright
ened.

  “We’re returning to SANCTUM from the police station, and I’ve picked up a tail. The police are sending cars, but I am quickly moving out of their jurisdiction. I wanted to give you all a heads up in case I’m bringing trouble back to SANCTUM. I’d like to invoke Operation Babysitter,” Bart shared.

  “Right away. Keep in touch. Let us know when you are a half-hour away,” Mitch requested before disconnecting.

  As she cleared the phone’s screen, Rita hesitantly asked, “What’s Operation Babysitter?”

  “It’s just SANCTUM jargon. Something for Daddies to know,” he reassured her as he kept an eye on the sedan behind him. It wasn’t gaining on the truck. He had a bad feeling that the men inside were simply waiting for the traffic to thin out a little further out of town to do whatever they had planned.

  “Hold on to the phone for Daddy. You’ll be my official caller, okay?” Bart hoped that having something to do would distract his nervous Little at least a bit.

  Chapter 23

  Rita was trying not to let her Daddy know how scared she was, but she knew she was failing miserably. She could see him looking back in the mirror frequently to check how close the car was to the truck. She wanted to look back, but Bart had told her to stop. Holding the phone tightly in her hand, she snuck glances at his face trying to read what was happening behind them from his expression.

  The truck suddenly gained speed. She could see Bart’s foot, stomping down on the gas pedal. She looked ahead and couldn’t see anyone else on the now-abandoned highway in front of them. They were all alone. “Daddy, are we going to be okay?” she begged for reassurance.

  “We’re going to be just fine, sweetheart. I think I hear police sirens. Do you?” he asked as his hands glided the speeding truck over the road.

  Closing her eyes to concentrate, Rita listened hard. She didn’t hear them, but she trusted her Daddy. The Little crossed her fingers and began to wish as hard as she could. Her eyes flew back open at a cracking sound that came from behind her. Unable to resist, she twisted around to see the sedan right behind them.

  “Get down on the floorboard, Rita,” Bart ordered.

  She flicked open her seatbelt and scrambled into the empty position in front of the passenger seat. Shoving the abandoned purse out of the way, she focused on Bart. Trembling with fear, she tried to make herself as small as possible in cramped space.

  “What about you, Daddy?” she asked, only to scream as the back window of the truck exploded behind Bart’s head. Rita threw her hands over her head for protection as shards of glass sprayed through the cab.

  “Daddy, Daddy! Are you okay?” Rita scanned his body, looking for injuries. To her horror, a small rivulet of blood streamed down one of Bart’s cheeks. She started to crawl from the floorboards but was riveted in place by her Daddy’s look.

  “You’re bleeding,” she cried.

  He scooted down as low as he could in the driver’s seat before reassuring her, “I’m okay. A few of the glass shards cut me a bit. Call 911, Ritagirl. Let’s see if we can hurry the police up,” he directed as he tried to maintain the truck’s speed. No longer able to look at the rearview mirror to see the car behind him, Bart risked taking one hand off the wheel to adjust the side mirror to his new position. The sedan had moved to the other lane to come up along the truck’s side.

  “Please, we need help. We’re being shot at on the highway out of town. You have to help us!” Rita said, urgently into the phone. As she listened to the dispatcher’s questions, suddenly, she heard it. A faint sound of sirens coming toward them.

  “Daddy! I can hear them!” she shouted to the handsome man who attempted to keep the truck ahead of the threat long enough for the police to reach them.

  “I think they heard it, too. The car dropped back slightly,” he exclaimed in relief. Then, they heard the crack of shots again from behind them.

  Bang! The left rear tire exploded, jerking the truck to the right before it careened to the left. Rita watched her Daddy slid fully back into position behind the steering wheel as he struggled to hold the truck on the highway. The sirens wailed louder and louder. Unable to take time to look ahead, he thought he saw the flash of lights in front of him.

  Forced to slow the truck down to avoid flipping it over, Bart pulled over to the side and stopped. Noting their reaction, the handsome man moved instinctively. Immediately, he unbuckled his seatbelt, and he threw himself over Rita’s body to shield her from the men as the sedan slowed to a stop next to them.

  Rita pushed against her Daddy’s body, wanting him to hide from the bullets she knew were coming to get her. “No, Daddy. They just want me. I’ll get out, and they’ll let you go,” she pleaded.

  “Not happening, Little girl,” Bart answered tersely as he listened to hear what was happening outside. Seconds passed like hours as they waited. A screech of tires came from outside.

  “Get out with your hands held high!” an authoritative voice yelled in front of them.

  “The police,” Rita whispered. A glimmer of hope began to shine in her heart. She desperately wanted to see what was happening, but Bart didn’t move. Minutes passed slowly as her ears strained to hear what was happening. They could hear the commands of several police officers ordering the men to throw their weapons from the car and then to get out with their hands held high.

  A flurry of gunfire erupted. Rita huddled in terror under her Daddy’s body. She could hear bullets thud into the truck and just prayed that none would make their way through the truck body. Two shouts of pain reached her ears, and she began to cry. What if they’d killed the police?

  Finally, silence descended. Rita could only hear her sobs and the soft breathing of Bart above her. “Daddy, is it all over?”

  “If you promise you’ll stay right where you are, I’ll look,” he softly replied.

  “I promise,” Rita assured him. She felt his weight shift slightly as he raised his head to look out the window. The sight must have reassured him because he moved back onto the seat. “It’s okay? They’re not going to hurt us now?” she questioned as she wrapped a hand over his knee, needing contact with her Daddy.

  “The good guys got here in time,” Bart reassured her. “Hold on.” He stripped off his shirt to lay it over the glass scattered on the seat. He reached a hand down to help her out of the small space that had kept her safe during the gunfire. “We’re going to slide out of the truck on the far side to avoid the glass. Be careful where you put your hands,” he warned as he guided her body sit on his shirt and maneuver out of the cab.

  Once safe from getting cut, Rita launched herself into Bart’s arms. She peeked through the window of the truck just long enough to see Eddie lying still on the ground and the other menacing man bleeding from his shoulder sitting in handcuffs next to the sedan that had followed them. Bart quickly turned her face away from the scene in front of the truck. Horrified by all the violence, the Little allowed her Daddy to pull her away from the scene. On the far side of the truck, she allowed him to cuddle her body against his bare chest with her face hidden.

  Several minutes later, after the slamming of several car doors, a deep voice addressed them. “You all okay? Do you need any medical care?” he asked, observing the smears of blood on Bart’s body.

  “I think we’re fine, Sheriff. The flying glass got me a bit when they shot out the back window. You got here in the nick of time. We owe you a world of gratitude,” Bart said, extending a hand to shake the officer’s hand.

  Rita peeked over her shoulder to see a tall man with salt and peppered hair dressed in a uniform behind her. Impulsively, she turned to throw herself into the sheriff’s arms, repeating, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  “You’re certainly welcome, Little girl. I wish I had gotten to you earlier,” Sheriff Ben Underwood said, patting her back to comfort her. “I appreciate the hug, but I bet your Daddy needs to hold you. He looks like he was pretty scared.”

  Immediately, Rita whirled to throw herself ba
ck into her Daddy’s arms. Processing the sheriff’s words, she stiffened. How did he know?

  Bart rubbed a soothing hand over her spine as he read her thoughts easily. “Ritagirl, it’s okay. Sheriff Underwood has a beautiful Little girl himself. She owns a sweet shop in the closest town to SANCTUM.”

  “She’s the sweetest Little I’ve ever met!” the sheriff boasted. “She also loves to make new friends. She’ll be so jealous that I met you first.”

  “What’s her name?” Rita asked, sliding to Bart’s side to be able to see the tall man.

  “Samantha,” he answered with a fond smile. His face returned to an official look. “We’ll look forward to getting to know you better, but now, I need to take your statement. Unfortunately, I’ll have to separate you. Bart, I’d like to question your Little girl myself. Would you go with my deputy to answer his questions?

  The two men’s eyes met in silent conversation. Bart knew that the sheriff would treat his Little with kid gloves making the questioning as easy on her as possible. He nodded his agreement before kissing the top of Rita’s head. “You stay here with the sheriff. I’m going to walk right over there with the deputy. Okay?” he asked her gently.

  Rita battled her desire to stay in her Daddy’s arms with the knowledge that she needed to give the police her statement. After a brief hesitation, she nodded her agreement. Smiling as her Daddy gave her another kiss and a fond pat on the bottom before he walked a short distance away to answer his own questions, she turned to the sheriff ready to get this over.

  After what seemed like a million questions, the sheriff reunited her with Bart and said, “Do you have transportation back to SANCTUM?” he asked the other man. The observant sheriff had seen him texting after the deputy had finished asking questions.