She widened her feet, her hands now on top of the fender. He loosened his left hand but let his thumb rest on the back of her neck, kneading her skin. Then he ran his right hand inside her thighs. “You bastard,” she said, turning around.
He grabbed her by the shoulders again and shoved her against the car, hard, jolting her teeth. “What’s that on your breath? Mouthwash?”
“I had one beer at the drive-in. You saw me drinking it.”
“Do you want to empty your pockets, or do you want me to do it for you?”
“You have no right to do this.”
“Last chance.”
She pulled her pockets inside out, her face hot with anger and shame.
“That’s a good start,” he said. “Now give me your driver’s license and registration.”
Her hands were shaking when she took her wallet from her purse and removed her driver’s license and handed it to him.
“Thank you,” he said. “Now give me your registration.”
She leaned over the seat to open the glove box.
“Hold on there,” he said, leaning on top of her, his hand reaching past her, his loins touching her buttocks. “I don’t want you pulling a surprise on me.” He popped open the glove box and raked the contents on the floor. “Pick it up.”
“Pick what up?”
“Are you deaf? You don’t speak English?” he said, his breath on her neck.
“You’re not going to get away with this.”
He backed out of the seat and came around to the other side of the convertible. He opened the door and grabbed her by one wrist and dragged her onto the grass, twisting her arm. “You think you can threaten a police officer?”
“I did no such thing.”
“Oh yes you did, lady. You were asking for this when you turned in to the park.”
“Liar.”
“Just keep talking,” he said, rolling her onto her stomach, pressing his knee into her back. He cuffed her wrists, pushing the steel tongues deep into the locking mechanism, bunching her skin. He pulled her to her feet, his fingers sinking deep into her upper arm.
She fought with him and tried to kick his shins. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into the air, his mouth against her cheek, close to her ear, his phallus hard against her rump. “You’re quite a handful,” he said. “Maybe after this, you’ll learn not to drink and drive.”
Chapter
19
MY ANGER DIDN’T serve me well at the police station. Rosita had been placed in the drunk tank. The charges included driving under the influence, resisting arrest, and threatening a police officer. Her bail had not been set. I couldn’t get her out of the tank, and I had been allowed to talk to her through the bars for only five minutes.
“She has to stay in there until tomorrow morning?” I said incredulously to a desk sergeant.
“She has to be arraigned. That’s how it works. She’s from overseas?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Maybe they do things different there.”
“What are you saying?”
“If you don’t agree with the system, change it,” he said, resuming his paperwork.