Doesn't every good girl need a daddy? It's him. The man from the texts is watching me. I mean... I knew he would eventually contact me but I wasn't expecting... My fingers shake as I tap back a reply. Who are you I wait. Prickles rise on my forearms. I can't tear my gaze away from the screen. I'll be your daddy now Little Reece Doesn't every good girl need a daddy What. The. Actual. Fear and angst rise in my throat. It's sick. And wrong. And scary... But somehow mixed in with the fear is a delicious thread of danger... One that trickles through my core like a hot lick of a flame. I should delete this number. I should tell someone. I should probably call the police. But I don't do any of that. I text him back.