“What people?”
Wells’s face changed.
He knew what Adrian had heard.
He also knew two body cameras were present.
Whether they were recording, Adrian did not know.
Wells withdrew his hand.
“Turn around.”
“For what suspected offense?”
“Turn around.”
“Am I being detained?”
Wells grabbed Adrian’s shoulder.
Adrian barely had time to brace himself.
His chest struck the hood.
The coffee fell.
The lid came off.
Black liquid splashed across the pavement.
Pike seized Adrian’s left arm.
Adrian said sharply:
“Do not mistake compliance for consent.”
Wells shoved harder.
“Hands behind your back.”
“They already are.”
“Quit resisting.”
“I am not resisting.”
The first cuff snapped around Adrian’s right wrist.
Then the left.
Wells twisted them upward.
Pain.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“You should’ve opened the trunk.”
Wells leaned closer.
His voice was low enough that perhaps he believed nobody else could hear.
Adrian turned his head slightly.
“Remember that sentence when they play your body camera.”
Wells smiled.
“What makes you think it’s running?”
That was the first moment Adrian felt something colder than anger.
His eyes shifted toward the small black device on Wells’s chest.
No visible light.
Pike’s camera appeared active.
Adrian did not know model well enough to be certain.
But Wells’s words were enough.
“Officer Pike.”
Pike looked at him.
“What?”
“Is your body camera recording?”
Wells snapped:
“Don’t answer him.”
Pike froze.
Adrian stored that.
Wells pushed him harder against hood.
“What’s in the trunk?”
“You have my answer.”
“Open it.”
“My hands are cuffed.”
“Give me the code.”
“No.”
Wells’s expression tightened.
Pike spoke quietly.
“Sarge.”
“What?”
“Maybe we should just run the military ID.”
Wells turned.
Adrian saw something in Pike’s face.
Not courage.
Not yet.
Doubt.
Wells did not like it.
“Stay in your lane.”
Pike’s mouth closed.
Wells pulled Adrian away from the vehicle.
The movement was sudden.
Adrian’s foot slipped on spilled coffee.
He went down.
His right knee struck asphalt.
Then shoulder.
Then cheek.
The pain was bright.
A truck driver near pump four shouted:
“Hey!”
Wells looked over.
“Stay back.”
The trucker raised both hands.
“I’m just saying he fell.”
“He resisted.”
The trucker frowned.
“That ain’t what I saw.”
Wells took one step toward him.