Clapped

Upstairs, he took a shower, brushed his teeth, changed into a fresh suit, and — for whatever reason — put on some cologne. Before rejoining the young woman, he took his gun out of his bedside drawer and turned it over in his hands a few times. Should he take it with him? He did not have a concealed carry permit — it was New York City, after all — but this might be a matter of life and death. Would he need to protect himself while in the presence of this stranger who had entered his house and easily parried his pathetic attempt at self-defense?