Tell them she attacked me again. The paramedics arrived within 10 minutes. The police. Five. Willow stepped out of his cruiser, rubbing his eyes like a man who couldn't believe he was living the same day twice.
Jesus Christ, John, he muttered. What did she do now? Came at me with the hammer again. You'll see it on camera. He looked at Karen's unconscious form being loaded onto a stretcher.
You okay? Fine. She barely grazed me. He exhaled. All right, let's make this quick.
They reviewed the footage on my phone right there on the driveway. Everything was clear as daylight. Her charging the weapon, the strike, the fall. When Karen regained consciousness, she started wailing.
He hit me. He assaulted me. He willow cut her off. You broke into his property, attacked him with a deadly weapon while on bail for a felony. Congratulations, ma'am.
"You just upgraded your sentence by years." She screamed curses as they cuffed her again, kicking against the stretcher. "This isn't over! I'll sue all of you!" Willow smirked. "You might want to focus on your plea deal first." The paramedics shut the doors, the sirens wailed, and she was gone. After they left, the adjuster lingered beside me, still pale.
"That was, "Wow, she's lucky you didn't kill her." "Yeah," I said quietly, staring at the dent her hammer had left in the concrete. "She's lucky," he hesitated, then added. "I've seen a lot of insurance claims, man, but this one's different. People usually wreck their own cars, not get attacked for owning one. I managed a tired smile.
Welcome to HOA country. He chuckled weakly, then excused himself. When the street finally emptied, the silence felt heavier than usual. Not peaceful, just hollow. By midnight, the adrenaline was gone, replaced by something colder, an ache that reached down to the bones.
I sat on the porch duke at my feet, replaying everything in my head. Every warning I'd ignored. Every red flag that I'd brushed off as annoying but harmless. Every smug smile she'd worn while pretending to enforce her imaginary rules. I wasn't angry anymore, just tired. Across the street, Karen's house glowed under the streetlight windows, dark lawn empty.
The home of a ghost. Tom arrived the next morning, eyes wide when he saw the police tape. Again, again, he ran a hand through his thinning hair. I swear she's going to make this HOA famous for all the wrong reasons. Already did, I said.
He handed me a paper and official notice from the board. We voted last night to remove her permanently, effective immediately. You'll get an apology letter from the HOA president today. Make it handwritten, I said dryly. I want to frame it next to my car repairs.