The taste of Luis Miguel's chapped, slimy lips on mine was as revolting as I imagined his hygiene habits. I jerked and yanked in their grip, my face scrunched in disgust as I tried to shove him off with all the strength I could muster.
My fists, though trapped, flailed pathetically as I attempted to knee him in the shin, but Rafa and Emilio held me fast against the wall like some prize they'd pinned to a trophy board.
Luis Miguel, utterly unfazed by my struggle, tilted his head as if he were some romantic protagonist in romance novels. His lips pressed harder, making a noise that sounded more like a clogged sink draining than the seductive picture he might have in his head.
His friends doubled over in laughter, slapping their thighs and howling like wolves in heat.
By the moon, I hate them.
"Stop it!" I managed to scream, yanking my face away for a brief second before he caught my chin again, forcing me to look into his smug, beady eyes.
My stomach churned at the stench of cheap cologne and whatever questionable meat he'd eaten for lunch. I gagged audibly.
"L-leave me a-a-lone, you jackass!"
Finally, Luis Miguel pulled back, licking his lips like he'd just devoured a top-notch cuisine. I wiped my mouth furiously with my shoulder, glaring at him with all the venom I could muster.
I couldn't believe he kissed me. Luis fucking Miguel KISSED me! Oh, my God, if I don't die of irritation, I'd develop diarrhea anytime I remember the stench of his mouth.
"Well, princesa," he sneered, jeering closer to me until our noses were almost touching. "By the time you're done wherever it is you're going, we'll be right here waiting for you. Don't take too long. I'm a very impatient man."
What? He wasn't done?! They were going to WAIT for me?!
By the moon in the sky, what sort of life was mine?
The other boys laughed again, Rafa making exaggerated kissing noises while Emilio mimicked my squirming like a deranged puppet.
I opened my mouth to retort, but Luis Miguel cut me off with a condescending pat on my head, like I was some stray dog.
"Careful, princesa. Don't let your tears smudge all that dirt on your face. It's a look that really suits you."
With that, he turned and walked away, his gang following closely behind. I knew the heavens wept for me when their laughter echoed down the alleyway—the soundtrack to my humiliation.
I stood frozen for a moment, my arms hanging limply at my sides. I just couldn't process what had just happened.
Luis Miguel forcefully kissed me in public. He didn't even give two fucks if anyone stumbled on us because he knew it wouldn't make a difference.
As the epiphany of my shitty life continued to hit me, I crumbled. My legs gave out, and I slid down the wall, burying my face in my hands.
The tears came fast and hard, hot streams running down my cheeks as I sobbed into the crook of my elbow. I cried for the butcher's money that was now stuffed into the vendor's greasy pocket.
I cried for the humiliation of being dragged, laughed at, and kissed by that slimy excuse of a man. And I cried for the realization that I couldn't go home empty-handed, not without the meat.
Father would kill me.
Not literally, of course—although, at this point, who could say? But he'd surely yell, call me useless, and then send Rosa to torment me further. I sniffled loudly, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.
"What will you do, María Jośe?" I asked myself, hiccuping at my failure.
Just get some bloody meat, and I failed at that too. Why on earth would I ever deserve a wolf?
As I wallowed in my misery, I suddenly heard a noise behind me—a faint scuffling, like someone trying to tiptoe.
In my mind, I thought; they were back. Luis Miguel and his gang were here to finish what they started.
My head shot up in alarm, and I turned around, squinting into the shadows of the alley.
"Hello?" I called, my voice hoarse from crying.
A figure darted out from behind a stack of crates and took off down the alleyway after dropping something on the floor. I couldn't make out who it was, but they sure as hell were tall and wiry.
I grunted. A man? Who the hell—?
"Hey! Wait!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet.
He must not have noticed that something had dropped off from him and I thought I'd inform him. But he was gone before I could take two steps. My gaze dropped to the spot where he'd been hiding, and that's when I saw it.
Surprise parted my lips as I bent down to pick it up. The bills were crumpled but real, and a small piece of paper was wedged between them.
Unfolding it, I read the note:
"You look ugly when you cry, so stop that. Here's something to shut you up."
"What the...?" My mouth fell open as I reread the words, half-offended and half-stunned.
My first instinct was to scream, "EXCUSE ME?!" at the mysterious benefactor who had disappeared into the shadows.
But the bills in my hand made my irritation fizzle into confusion.
Who was he? And why did he care if I cried? And more importantly—did I really look ugly when I cried?
Or most importantly—why did he give me the money?
Could it be that he had witnessed what had happened and was trying to help?
"Not a snowball's chance in hell, María Jośe. There's no way anyone in this pack could ever care for an Omega. At least, not enough to help with some cash." I replied to my own question.
Moreover, it'd be weird if they witnessed all that and did not make any attempt to prevent it, but just give me my lost money.
I shook my head. "Only a crazy person would do that."