‘Dad, do you think we could skip the protests today?’
Alicia sat on the edge of the wooden chair in front of her father’s desk. They were in his office at the church. The room was sparse with white walls and stern furniture. A Bible sat on his desk and a picture of a lost lamb graced the wall behind him, but the room was so quiet – in colour, in warmth and in volume. A radio sat on the shelf to his left, but no music came from its speakers. The only sound to be heard was that of the air-conditioner, and it was working overtime.
‘It’s supposed to get into the high nineties this afternoon,’ she explained, latching on to the excuse. ‘I don’t want anyone to overheat.’
‘It’s hot in hell,’ he muttered, not looking up from the paper on which he was scribbling. A computer sat at his side, but he rarely turned it on. He was an old-school man, in thoughts and in actions. He viewed the Internet as a playground for degenerates, and the only use he had for it was his email. ‘We will not let the devil push us away simply because we’re uncomfortable.’
Alicia toyed with the ledger in her lap, lining it up against the hem of her skirt. She was certainly uncomfortable, but not because of the heat. Tonight was her first night dancing at the Satin Club. She was nervous, scared and queasy over the situation she’d got herself into. She’d barely slept all night as she’d tried to think of a way out of this mess. Step one had to be getting her father to stop his boycott.
‘We’ve had some elderly parishioners showing up. I’m worried about heat exhaustion.’
‘Then bring bottled water and fans.’ He slapped the desk in annoyance. ‘We’re making progress, Alicia. We can’t stop now. Crowe and his depraved minions are on their heels.’
Hardly. Leesha pressed her thighs together tightly. Bas wasn’t backing down. No, he was a fighter, just like she’d pegged him. He might use unusual tactics, but he’d stand his ground. Just look at what had happened to her when she’d tried to go toe-to-toe with him.
Her face heated and she pulled her skirt and the ledger further over her knees.
She still hadn’t got over what happened the other night. The feelings were still so close to the surface: the embarrassment, the horror – and the astonishment, the adrenalin and the bliss. She still couldn’t believe what she’d done, but dancing like that? Feeling those strangers’ hands on her? They’d brought her to such a sharp state of ecstasy, she still had to be careful how she walked or sat.
Even this hard wooden chair was getting to her. She shifted in distress. She’d been so sensitive ever since it happened. It was as if an awareness had been lit inside her. She had a sexual side, a side that needed gratification.
Apparently it had been starved for too long.
‘Please, you need to reconsider.’ She opened the ledger determinedly. ‘The number of worshippers in attendance on Sunday mornings has dropped significantly.’
He waved off her worry. ‘We don’t need the meek or the non-believers.’
‘We need their offerings.’
His blue eyes finally met hers. They were watery, but steely with fire. ‘Are people not tithing?’
‘Well … yes,’ she admitted. As far as their numbers had dropped, the actual dollars in the offering plates had gone up. The believers were showing their faith where it counted. ‘But we’ve got several comments on how radical we’ve become. We haven’t had any new attendees in weeks.’
‘Radical?’ That one word brought her father to his feet. ‘We’re fighting against evil.’
Leesha rocked slowly in her chair. This was not how she’d wanted things to go. She’d hoped to approach this logically, to have a straightforward discussion, but she could see it was too late for that. He was committed to his cause.
He rounded his desk, his blue eyes narrowing. ‘Has Lucifer touched your thoughts? Are you wavering in your commitment?’
She wasn’t wavering. Her commitment was just to peace and understanding. She’d already lost one battle to keep that. ‘No, I’m just … Father, we haven’t worked on the bulletin yet for this Sunday’s service. You haven’t signed the checks for the gas or electricity bills. You haven’t spoken to Jeanne about the hymns you’d like her to play. Have you even thought about your sermon?’
He bristled with indignation. ‘I will speak as the spirit moves me.’
Which wasn’t a good thing. He could be a powerful speaker when he planned his services, so eloquent and moving. She hadn’t seen that side of him for a while now. He’d become so myopic. ‘I just think we need to spend less time at the Satin Club and more time here.’
He stood over her, frowning. ‘Did those men at the club get to you? Are you fearful, child?’
Fearful, uncertain, excited – it was hard to tell which way the adrenalin was pulling her.
He knelt before her, taking her hands. ‘Evil can be frightening when you stare it in the face, but we must be strong together. We can’t tremble or let them separate us.’
‘Dad, you know I’m on your side.’
There were still questions in his eyes, worry for her. She took hope in that worry. For the first time in a very long while, he was looking outside himself. Vesting himself in something other than hate and vengefulness.
‘Let us pray together,’ he said.
She bowed her head, warmth filling her chest.
‘Father in heaven, help strengthen our resolve in the face of darkness. Help us cast out the demons. We are your servants, Lord, your soldiers. We will be strong in your stead.’
He gripped her hands so tightly Alicia winced, but then he was pushing himself to his feet. He bobbled slightly when his arthritic knee seized up, but grabbed the back of the wooden chair and pushed himself upright. He lifted his Bible high. ‘Let us be off to meet with our fellow soldiers.’
Stand on the picket line with Bas and Remy watching her through their security cameras?
‘Maybe I’ll stay here, just for today,’ Alicia hedged. ‘I have a lot of work to do.’
‘Nothing is more important than standing tall against your fears.’ He grasped her by the arm and pulled her upright.
She caught her ledger before it tumbled onto the floor. This wasn’t working. Instead of getting him to back down, she’d got him charged up.
There was a spring in his step as he pulled her towards the door. ‘We will win this fight, you and I together. In a few weeks’ time, the Satin Club will be no more.’
***
The Satin Club was hopping by the time Alicia made it there that night. She could see the cars in the parking lot and hear the muted beat of music. She was nervous and uptight as she parked her car at the diner next door. They’d instructed her to park behind the club, but she couldn’t be caught there. She didn’t want anyone to know where she was. How could she ever explain?
For a long moment, she sat in her car just staring at the building. The desire to run was so strong. They had to have seen her on the picket line with their security cameras and spies. Would Bas be angry with her? She hadn’t got her father to budge, although there’d been no microphone or speakers today. She hadn’t lived up to her end of the bargain on that, but she was here.
She was going to dance.
Her stomach clenched. Just dance. Without any clothes, perhaps, but she was not getting back into that cage. There would be no extra-curricular activity tonight, even though her nipples were pinching and her hips were loosening. She was here to entertain … visually, with no touching allowed.
She blew out a breath. ‘A month of this?’
There was no way her nerves could take it.
Before she could chicken out, she got out of the car. She could feel the eyes upon her as she made her way to the club’s back entrance. She keyed in the code she’d been given, but hesitated when she opened the door. On the other side of those red satin curtains, the place wasn’t so lush. The hallway was dark and intimidating. It was industrial with hard floors and metal shelves. The music had a melody now, but it sounded hollow. She wrapped her arms around her waist. Really, it was like the backstage of any other theatre where she’d performed, but she wasn’t comfortable here.
She stayed near the exit as she contemplated what to do next. She couldn’t just walk out into the performance area. How could she show her face? The last time she’d been here, she’d exposed herself, physically and emotionally. Footsteps suddenly echoed over the beat of the music, and she stiffened.
‘Alicia, welcome.’
She struggled not to blush when Bas turned the corner. He was dressed in black, the panther in all his sleek glory. He tucked a hand in his pocket as his gaze skimmed over her. If he was gloating, she couldn’t tell. His green gaze was indecipherable in the dim lighting.
He frowned as he looked up at the burned-out fixture on the ceiling. ‘Sorry it’s dark back here. I’ll get someone to work on that.’
He held out his hand. ‘Come.’
She had no option but to take his hand again, a willing sacrifice. He led her down the hallway to the changing room she’d used before, and it brought up mixed emotions. She was used to getting ready for performances in places such as this. Bright bulbs of lights surrounded big mirrors. Make-up was strewn about the tabletops, and lockers lined the far wall. There were the familiar tools of the trade: legwarmers, liniment and wrapping tape. It was the dance world she was accustomed to.
But, oh so very different.
She chose a spot, set down her bag and clutched her hands together. They were shaking. ‘I’m sorry about the protesters today. I know I promised, but –’
He cupped her shoulder. ‘It’s all right. I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop it in a day.’
His touch was warm and firm, but not angry. He trailed his fingers down her bare arm. She’d worn a sleeveless top to try to stay cool. The heat had been beating down on her all day, but somehow she knew she’d be shivering once she hit the stage. There was already a chunk of ice in the pit of her stomach.
‘Sit,’ he said. ‘I want to go over the rules with you.’
Rules? Really? She’d thought this place was about breaking them.
She was too antsy to sit, so she leaned her hips against the make-up table and wrapped her fingers around its edge.
Bas’s expression was stoic as he watched her. He was so different from Remy. With Remy, she knew exactly where she stood and what he wanted, shocking as it may be. Bas was more calculating, and it put her off-balance. What did he expect out of her this month? Was he trying to prove her wrong? To show her that the club wasn’t depraved and sinful?
Because she’d got a taste of the darker side in that cage. Although she’d been a willing subject …
‘You look like you’re about to face a firing squad,’ he commented. ‘Relax.’
‘I don’t think I can,’ she said honestly.
He frowned. ‘I want you to enjoy yourself here, Leesha. This isn’t a punishment. It might not seem like it now, but this place could be your sanctuary.’
Sanctuary. Her stomach turned. ‘I already have one of those.’
He bowed his head apologetically. ‘Poor choice of words. I just want you to know you can do anything you want here. You can explore things you’re curious about, delve into things you like. You can try new styles of dance and expression. Nobody’s going to judge you or hurt you. You’re safe here.’
She nodded slowly, not quite trusting him. ‘What if I don’t want to take off my clothes?’
The lines around his eyes deepened, and she stilled. It was the one sign she knew that signalled his displeasure.
‘That’s the one thing I won’t allow,’ he said. ‘You will not hold back on me or this bet. The gentlemen who visit this club pay for certain privileges. Seeing your beautiful body is one of those. Besides, this experiment is supposed to push you outside of your boundaries, to get you to experience the pleasure that you’ve denied yourself.’
Pleasure, again. She couldn’t hold his gaze.
‘Clearly, that’s something you need to do.’
There it was: the reference to her time in the cage. She’d been waiting for it, but her reaction wasn’t quite what she expected. She’d expected shame, but instead she felt confusion. He’d watched her lose control, but he was encouraging her to do it again. Demanding it. The idea was so bizarre. Her whole life had been about control and denial.
She bit her lip as that place between her legs pulsed, and she crossed her thighs to try to ease the sensation. ‘But you said that one of your most popular dancers never strips.’
He grinned like a hungry crocodile. ‘That’s because she’s sixteen. Once she hits eighteen, I won’t be able to hold the little minx back.’
‘Sixteen?’ Alicia gasped.
This place was unseemly. Even as she cringed, she felt a spark inside her. Maybe that was why she’d been sent here – to help change the club’s ways from the inside. The Lord did work in mysterious ways.
Bas shrugged. ‘She’s like you, the girl loves to dance.’
‘But –’
‘But unlike you, dance is all she’s allowed to explore here. This is your time, sweet Leesha. Nothing’s holding you back here. I want to see how far you can go.’
‘With dancing,’ she stressed.
‘Sure, with dancing.’ His gaze dropped to her breasts and then the way her legs were rubbing together.
Alicia felt a prickle at the back of her neck. He was so careful in his wording. He’d said he wanted her to feel safe here. Somehow that was one thing she didn’t think she’d ever feel inside the walls of this club. Safe from him? Maybe. He was so controlled, so in charge.
But from herself?
She wasn’t sure. She was experiencing desires she hadn’t even known she had.
The door to the dressing room suddenly sprang open, and Chanteuse strode in, all long legs and streaming red hair. She was flushed and breathless. A big grin was on her face, but she stopped when she saw the two of them. ‘Oh, sorry. Should I come back?’
Bas waved her in. ‘I’m just going over the rules with Angel.’
‘Angel?’ Alicia said.
‘Don’t look so stricken. Every dancer here has a show name.’
‘But … Angel?’
Chanteuse patted her on the knee as she passed. ‘It’s a good fit. The guys the other day certainly thought you’d fallen from heaven.’
Alicia balked and felt her face flame. ‘You – you saw that?’
‘Saw it and heard it. Honey, you were spectacular.’
Alicia wrapped a hand over her mouth, utterly horrified. She hadn’t thought about anyone other than Bas or Remy, but this dancer had seen her in the cage. What must the other workers in the club think? The bouncer and the bartender? What about the men who’d touched her? The men who’d played with her and brought her to orgasm? Would they be in the crowd tonight?
She felt woozy. Of course they would. Bas was a smart businessman. He would have advertised that she was coming back.
Oh, she couldn’t do this. God might have sent her on a mission, but she wasn’t up to the challenge. She pushed away from the table and began to pace.
‘You can come here any time you want,’ Bas continued, ‘but your performance hours are from eight to twelve. I know you have a day job, so I’m willing to let you pull an early shift. On weekends, you’ll dance from ten to two. We have beds if you want to spend the night.’
‘As in sleep?’ Chanteuse let out a laugh. ‘Yeah, right.’
Alicia turned on her heel. ‘I can’t work on Sundays.’
He watched her steadily. ‘It’s one of our busiest nights.’
She looked towards Chanteuse, who shrugged in agreement.
Bas leaned back against the wall with both hands in his pockets now. ‘Once their wives release them from their church obligations, a lot of men come to me. Here, for what you’ll provide.’
Leesha looked to the ceiling, trying to find strength. She’d had no idea. This had to be why she’d ended up here. Determination started to build inside her chest. Maybe that’s why she was being allowed to dance again, to experience the pleasure she’d left behind. She was here to minister, to bring back those who’d strayed from their faith. It was like that lost sheep in her father’s office.
‘You’ll be on the main stage once every hour,’ Bas continued. ‘When you’re not the main attraction, you’ll be expected to work the crowd and dance the off-stages.’
‘Work the crowd?’
‘They can’t touch unless they make special arrangements. You have the final say.’
‘Say yes,’ Chanteuse whispered. ‘The tips are awesome.’
‘Tips.’ Bas snapped his fingers and nodded as if that was something he’d forgotten. ‘There might be some touching if you’re willing to accept those.’
Alicia stared at him, not understanding.
He grinned softly. ‘You are an innocent one. They slide the bills into your G-string.’
Her eyes widened. ‘But –’
He chuckled. ‘And sometimes there, too.’
Her mouth dropped open, and this time both he and Chanteuse laughed out loud.
‘I meant that they’re so tiny,’ Alicia protested. ‘The G-strings, I mean!’
‘Speaking of which …’ His gaze slid down the zipper to the crotch of her jeans. ‘Did you wax?’
Her breath was knocked right out of her. How could he say these things out loud? She sent a worried look to Chanteuse, but the woman was changing. The redhead was literally stripping out of her costume and putting on her street clothes – right in front of God and her boss.
Amazingly, Bas’s attention was still on her. ‘Well?’
‘I shaved,’ she hissed. She wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her elbows. Everything was so out in the open here. Nothing was forbidden.
Or looked down upon. Or considered shameful.
That took her aback. People weren’t made to feel bad here – about anything.
He cocked his head, his gaze considering. ‘Let it grow back in a bit, and I’ll spring for a visit with Ricky.’
‘Ooo, Ricky.’ Chanteuse slipped her feet into comfortable flip-flops. ‘That’s a treat.’
Finally, Bas pushed himself away from the wall. ‘That’s about it. Did you bring an outfit?’
‘Yes.’ Alicia’s pacing had brought her back to the table. Reaching out, she set her hand protectively on her bag. She’d brought her own clothes, but now she didn’t know if that was such a good idea.
‘Have you chosen your music?’
She nodded and that calculating smile pulled at his lips again.
‘You’ve been practising.’
It wasn’t a question, because they both knew the answer. Of course, she’d been rehearsing. She couldn’t get on that stage without a plan this time. She was here to dance and she’d been choreographing all day long. In her office and on the sidewalk across the street …
Why not? She was being given a chance to dance again. Why not do things the way she wanted? She couldn’t make a fool of herself again. She couldn’t let others take the lead. When it came to her dancing, she was going to be in charge.
‘I make the rules on the dance floor.’
He clicked his tongue, apparently happy with what he saw. Alicia was surprised when he set his hand on her waist and brushed his lips across her cheekbone. ‘There’s only one rule I’m really going to hold you to, Leesha angel. You enjoy yourself.’
***
‘Did she show up?’ Remy asked when Bas stopped at the bar.
‘She’s here.’
Remy nodded. He was busy balancing glasses one atop the other, with the finishing touch being a shaker of salt. As much concentration as it took, he knew that old Henry had fallen asleep again at Table 5 and Joaquin from the lawyer’s office was getting a bit rowdy. If the counsellor grabbed his waitress’s ass one more time, Remy was going to have to escort him to the door. He was aware of everything that happened in this place.
The one person he hadn’t seen yet, though, was the angel. He’d been waiting for her. ‘She cut it close. I was beginning to think she didn’t have it in her.’
Bas leaned back against the bar. His attention was just as honed, but it was on other things – like how much they were bringing in with alcohol sales tonight and how much higher they could turn up the air-conditioning. It was a squelcher out there tonight, but it was good to keep things a bit warm inside the club. It fit the mood. Nobody wanted to be frozen out, especially when things were getting hot on the stage.
Bas signalled to the bartender for a water. ‘She’s shaking in her shoes, but her nipples are showing right through her top. She was awfully squirmy, too.’
So a lot was going on down below, too. That surprised Remy. He hadn’t thought she’d have the courage to come back here after her experience in the cage. The fact that she did told him she was made of sterner stuff than he believed.
For a holier-than-thou type, that intrigued him.
The salt shaker was balanced just so. Carefully, he let go and stepped back from his creation. It would take more than a puff of air to knock that tower down.
He wondered just how much pretty little Leesha could withstand.
Turning, he leaned back against the bar next to Bas. ‘Her father isn’t cracking.’
‘No, but she is.’ Bas took a long drink of his water, the muscles in his throat working. He nodded to the stage when the lights went down. ‘I think we’re in for something special, Remy.’
The lights flickered and went on low, signalling that the next performance was about to begin. Over the loudspeaker came a deep, crooning voice. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the Satin Club stage our latest featured performer, Aaan-gellll.’
The beat of the music started, and Remy frowned. It was a timid piece, not something the crowd would go for at all. When the spotlight swung up, there was a lone figure on-stage. A prim, tightly-lashed figure in plain, frumpy clothes. ‘What the hell?’ he muttered.
Even so, his cock stirred.
Her hair was up in a bun, she wore glasses, and her skirt hung all the way down to mid-shin. She looked so subdued, crisp and clean in her best Sunday go-to-meeting clothes. His teeth clenched. Was she going to preach to them from up there? There was absolutely nothing sexy or come-hither about her at all.
Except for the shoes.
His gaze focused on them like a soccer player’s on a net. They were black and sky-high. Still, he might not have noticed them if not for the ribbons. They wrapped around her feet, circled her ankles and crisscrossed up her shins. They finally tied somewhere up under that long skirt. He could see the tail ends hanging down, tickling her Achilles tendons.
He reached down to adjust himself. Oh, sweet mercy.
She was preaching – preaching to the choir.
All alone up there on the stage, she held the attention of every man in the room and she hadn’t even started to move yet. She was covered from neck to shin, but they could see her shape in the harsh spotlight. Her breasts were high and full. Her waist was nipped in, and her hips were sleek.
She looked like the church secretary she was, the woman who’d given him boners just standing across the street and waving that saucy sign. Remy found himself salivating at the thought of all those clothes coming off, piece by piece.
But then she started to move and he nearly swallowed his tongue.
Holy balls.
She was incredible.
Her hips started rocking first, back and forth, and then she added a twitch. That ugly skirt swished, inching up only a little, teasing him and hiding her. She walked forward on the stage, seemingly hesitant and out-of-place, but then a high note pierced the air.
All hell nearly broke out when the music went into a serious rut, grungy and dirty. The sweet church secretary changed with it, whipping off her glasses. They went flying into the crowd and bounced off old Henry’s forehead. He awoke with a start and nearly fell out of his chair when he realised what he was missing.
Remy’s fingers clenched into fists as she let her hair down. It was amazing hair, long and brown and wavy. It flipped and bounced as she moved and suddenly all he could think about was wrapping it around his cock as she sucked him dry.
Did she even do that? Would he have to teach her? Given what he was seeing on that stage, she’d be a quick study.
The crowd was suddenly on its feet. Beside him, Bas had gone still.
This wasn’t normal, even in their line of work. Remy had seen dozens of naked women gyrating on that stage. So had most of the men in the room. This one was completely dressed, hardly strutting, and yet his dick was already poking at his zipper.
His buddy had been right. She was something special.
He folded his arms over his chest as she finally started working that butt-ugly skirt over her hips. A much nicer butt was exposed. High, firm and rounded. He shifted his weight against the bar. That ass was so his. He couldn’t wait to grab it, hold her in position and pound into her as she squirmed and squealed.
‘Lord almighty,’ Bas breathed.
Her shirt was undone now, and they could all see the body underneath. She was wearing white cotton, something Remy was pretty sure wasn’t even in their wardrobe collection. The bra and panties were plain and unadorned, but they didn’t need to be pretty. What they were hiding was spectacular in and of itself.
A muscle under his ear panged and he rolled his jaw to ease the tension. God, he wanted to see her breasts. He’d watched them dangle and jounce as the boys had fingered her yesterday, but he hadn’t yet seen them bared.
The shirt hit the floor and there she was, twisting and grinding in her prissy little bra and panties – and those naughty, naughty shoes. The crowd was now gathered around the runway and bills were being waved at her left and right. She seemed shy about that, hesitant to let those hands touch her again.
But her gaze kept drifting down the runway to the pole.
Remy stood upright. She wanted this, the little vixen. She wanted to be dancing here, just like this, in those clothes and with that pole.
The bra. He wanted it off. His nuts were already so tight, they were like billiard balls. He was ready to march over and tear that stupid bra off with his teeth when she finally went for the tab at her back.
Around her, the breathing of their customers went ragged. The music was hard and driving, full and grubby. The mounds of her flesh bounced and jiggled as she danced, and then gradually they were released. She took a deep breath of air and her chest expanded, pushing her breasts high. Her eyes drifted shut in that moment and she arched her back. She swept her hands up her belly and covered the jiggling globes. Almost with curiosity. Definitely with pleasure.
A shudder went through her that wasn’t choreographed.
Oh, fuck! Remy was staring so hard, his vision started to blur around the edges.
Her nipples were big and pink, reddening with excitement. She felt herself up and enjoyed it, but then her chin snapped down and her gaze focused on the pole. Like a woman possessed, she charged down the stage towards it. When she finally came into contact, she wrapped herself around it, her delight evident. She rubbed it between her bare breasts and Remy bit the side of his cheek as her pink nipples stood out, turgid and hungry. She pressed her mound against the brass fixture and humped unabashedly. From where he stood, he could see the wet spot spreading in the crotch of her panties.
But no dark shadow. Had she waxed? His boner twitched, ready to fire off.
She spun around the pole until she had to get dizzy. When she finally stopped, she arched back. Her naked breasts lifted high and her hair brushed against that tight little ass. Kicking one leg up, she pointed her toes and rubbed against the brass pole some more.
He’d seen exotic dancers with a lot more technique, but never one who was so enthusiastic. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that lucky-ass pole, but nobody in the place was about to stop her as she experimented.
Unfortunately, the song was only so long. It had to come to an end, and it did before she came to hers. She seemed surprised when the beat stopped, but she’d trained as a dancer her whole life. She ended with a pirouette beside the pole, and dropped dramatically to her knees.
Her face was hidden by all that luscious hair, but her entire body bobbed as she sucked in air, trying to catch her breath. When she finally rose, the applause lifted with her. For someone so confident before, she now seemed shy and unsure. She covered her breasts with her hands, but let them fall in increments when Bas shook his head.
Remy swallowed hard. God, she was gorgeous like that, naked and visibly aroused. Her breasts were high and heavy, her stomach was quivering and her cheeks were dotted with pink.
All around her, dollars waved. He sent a quick look over the crowd to make sure nobody got over-anxious. She knew what to do, didn’t she? One of the regulars showed her, shoving a bill down the front of her wet panties. She swivelled away in surprise. Others soon followed, and some of her bravado returned. She thrust out a hip for a dollar here, meekly offered her backside for a fiver there …
When she finally walked offstage, her straight-laced panties were bulging with tips. Dollar bills were crammed into every nook and cranny. Her walk was a bit funny, but her shoulders were back and those amazing tits were held high.
Remy’s eyes narrowed to nearly slits. He wanted to fuck her so bad, he couldn’t see straight.
‘Shit,’ Bas exhaled. It sounded like the first deep breath he’d taken in minutes. ‘We’ve got a star on our hands, Rem.’
Remy didn’t know about that. He just wanted to get his hands on her.