Free Sunny Says by Jan Hudson

of hanging out with a bunch of losers.”
    “Tarantulas are the winners. We’re
the best.”
    Carlos rolled his eyes. “Or the
worst, depending on your point of view.”
    Rico’s eyes flared and he jumped
up. “Hey, man, I don’t have to take this s—”
    “Watch your mouth.” Carlos
shoved him back in his chair. “Talk to the lady. I’ll be at the bar.”
    Sunny ordered a cola, took a
deep breath, and plunged in. Sullen at first, Rico soon warmed to her as she
pandered to his teenaged machismo. She took copious notes and garnered some
excellent information for the news special she planned to do on the growing
concern about gangs in the city. She’d almost convinced Rico to appear on
camera, with his face and voice disguised, when suddenly he looked distracted,
then wary.
    “You know that gringo sitting by
Carlos?”
    Sunny turned around. Kale sat on
a stool facing her, his elbows propped behind him on the bar. His features
drawn into a fierce scowl, he lifted his beer bottle in greeting. The greeting
wasn’t a congenial one. She wiggled her fingers and winked at him, but his
expression didn’t change. She could almost hear his teeth grinding, and his
glower pierced her like a skewer. Carlos sat facing away from her, his head
down and his shoulders hunched over his drink.
    “I don’t like the way he’s
looking at you,” Rico said. “Want me to take care of him?” he asked with all
the bravado of youth.
    Sunny bit back a smile. While
she had no doubt that Kale Hoaglin could handle a kid whose mustache was only
peach fuzz, she didn’t think he could deal with a dozen adolescent toughs. “He’s
just my boss. Ignore him.” She continued their interview.
    “From the way he looks at you, I
think he’s more than your boss,” Rico said, smiling slyly. “And he seems very
angry.”
    She felt herself flush. “He
probably doesn’t like my being here. He tends to be overprotective.”
    “It’s good for a man to protect
his woman.”
    “I’m not his woman.”
    Rico grinned. “I don’t think he
knows that. Here he comes.”
    “Kale.” She gave him a
perfunctory nod. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’ve come for you.” He plucked
her pad and pencil from her hands and stuck them in his jacket pocket. “Let’s
go. This is no place for a lady.” He grabbed her elbow and hauled her to her
feet.
    “But, but—” she sputtered. “I’m
in the middle of an interview. Rico—”
    Kale kissed her. Hard.
Infuriated by his behavior she struggled to evade his mouth, but her efforts
were futile against his strength.
    He ended the kiss, but still
held her tightly. Glancing at Rico, he said, “I’m taking my woman out of here. Any
objections?”
    Sunny looked to Rico for
support, but he seemed to be enjoying the exchange. He laughed and held up his
hands. “Not from me, man. I wouldn’t let my lady come in this place either.”
    She could have killed the pair
of them! She glanced to the bar, hoping for assistance from Carlos, but he only
shrugged and looked sheepish.
    Kale snatched up her purse and,
despite her protests, marched her out of El Gallo Rojo. With her taking two
steps to his one, he strode down the street to her car. Her high heel caught in
a crack, and she shrieked at him to stop. But did he? No. He only yanked her
harder, and the heel of her best pair of white shoes snapped off, leaving her
to hobble quickly behind him with the uneven gait of a peg-leg pirate.
    She sputtered and ranted and
steamed and fought the urge to kick him in his Neanderthal shins. But he was
made of stone, and she’d probably have broken her toe. He pinned her against
her car and dug through her handbag for her keys.
    “Kale Hoaglin, I may murder you
in your sleep! What was that macho display about? What gives you the right to
cause a scene and drag me away from my job as if I were some pea-brain?”
    “I’m your boss.”
    Feeling as suddenly deflated as
a slashed tire, she clamped her lips together and blinked