All I saw was his hand.
I said one word.
“Don’t.”
He drew the gun.
Pointed it at my chest.
The distance between us was only a few feet.
My doorframe pressed against my left shoulder.
Darren’s breathing became shallow.
The gun trembled slightly.
That frightened me more than steady hands would have.
A nervous armed man is dangerous.
“Hand over the key.”
His voice was different now.
Higher.
Strained.
“This is your final warning.”
I looked at his face.
“You’re pointing a gun at a homeowner over an HOA demand.”
“You forced this.”
“No.”
My voice stayed low.
“You made this choice.”
“KEY.”
“I’m not giving you my house key.”
His finger shifted.
I will not describe every movement that followed.
Not because I do not remember.
I remember too much.
What matters is that I believed the threat had become immediate.
I moved to keep the weapon away from my body.
