His body knew how to do it the way other people's bodies knew how to breathe. He chose not to. Instead, Pierce stood perfectly still and said clearly and calmly, "I'm not resisting. "I have done nothing wrong." Please let go of my arm."
Mallerie didn't let go. He yanked Pierce's arm sideways and shoved him hard toward the shelving unit on the left side of the aisle. Pierce hit the shelving with his shoulder and back, sending boxes of cereal tumbling to the floor. A woman shopping at the end of the aisle gasped and pulled her cart back. A man two aisles over heard the crash and looked around the corner.
"Stop resisting!" Mallerie shouted. Though Pierce had not moved a single muscle to resist anything, Pierce braced against the shelving and stayed on his feet, his hands visible, his body deliberately passive. "I'm not resisting," he said again, his voice still controlled despite the pain in his shoulder from being thrown into metal shelving. "I have done nothing wrong."
Mallerie grabbed both of the Pierce's arms and wrenched them behind his back with force that was completely disproportionate to a man who was standing still and cooperating. The handcuffs went on tight, too tight, and Mallerie began walking Pierce toward the front of the store while cereal boxes lay scattered on the floor around them. Other shoppers watched in stunned silence. A teenage boy near the checkout pulled out his phone and started recording. An older woman shook her head slowly.
The store manager, who had come out of his office when he heard the crash, watched from near the service desk with an expression of visible discomfort, his eyes moving between Pierce and Mallerie and the scattered groceries on the floor. Cassie stood behind the service desk and watched the man she'd called police on being walked out in handcuffs and felt the flush of something she told herself was relief, but was actually the specific discomfort of a person who has just watched the consequences of their own bias play out in front of them in a way that can't be easily rationalized. Outside, Mallerie's backup arrived. Officer James Tate, younger, quieter, who took one look at Pierce standing calmly against the patrol car and then at Mallerie's aggressive posture and felt the immediate discomfort of a man who suspects he's arrived at a situation that isn't what it was called in as, after 20 minutes during which Pierce stated his name, said repeatedly that his ID was in his car and could be verified and maintained calm consistency throughout, Mallerie issued him a disorderly conduct citation and removed the handcuffs. No arrest, not enough to justify one even by Mallerie's own reasoning.
Just a citation and a warning to leave the premises. Pierce took the citation, looked at it for a moment, then looked at Mallerie with an expression that was completely unreadable. He walked to his car, sat in the driver's seat, and pulled out his phone. He didn't call a lawyer. He didn't call a family member.