Page 126 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

Suddenly, I understand.

She was faking it.

June gasps in surprise, but Tommy doesn’t notice. He’s too drunk and too focused on his tirade of terror.

Just as he winds his hand back to slap June, Ernestine cracks the vase over the top of his head with all her might.

Water and shards fly everywhere. Tommy’s legs buckle. He drops to his knees, his upper body swaying.

“Don’t touch my granddaughter, you son of a bitch!” Ernestine kicks him in the back and Tommy falls flat on the floor.

June jumps over him and hugs her grandma, who tucks the girl into her side.

But they both stay alert. This isn’t over yet.

It’s hard to tell if Tommy is unconscious or not. I kick his shoulder, trying to test, but he doesn’t move. Of course, given what I just saw with Ernestine, I know that doesn’t mean anything. He could be pretending.

“We have to get the gun and get out of here,” I say. “He’s told people where I am. They could be coming for all of us.”

In my head, I’m screaming,Where the hell is Dima?

Ernestine tells June to go pack a bag and the girl runs off to do as she’s told.

Now, it’s my job to deal with Tommy.

I kick him in the shoulder again. No reaction. His body stays limp. I hope that’s a good sign.

I bend down and try to reach into his front pocket for the gun, but the way he fell, I can’t get it. I’ll have to roll him over.

I sit down on the floor, my back against the refrigerator, and use my feet to lift him partially off the floor. Once his shoulder is elevated, I wedge my toes under him and then use my hands to pull him up.

He’s scrawny, but his dead weight is heavy, and it takes me a minute or more to flip him over.

By that time, he’s beginning to blink. I jam my hand into his pocket and wrap my hand around the gun, surprised by how light it feels.

It isn’t until I get it free of his jeans that I realize why.

The gun is fake.

It’s a toy. A water pistol painted black.

When it’s aimed at your face, you don’t question whether a gun is real or not. You assume it is. As it turns out, Tommy was unarmed and drunk. I could have fought him off myself hours ago.

I shove the gun down the back of my pants, hoping the toy might be as useful to me as it was for Tommy. Then I stand up, grab the cast iron skillet from the stove, and give the back of Tommy’s head another good whack.

I hope to God I killed him.

The man is a monster. It’ll be a better world without him in it.

June and Ernestine meet me at the front door with the few things they need. I grab the keys to Ernestine’s old van from the hook by the door.

And together, we run out into the dusk.

I want to tell the women I’m sorry for doing this to them. That I’m sorry for ruining the life they had here.

But I can’t find the words. Anyway, I’m not sure now is the time.

I’ve just closed the trunk when I hear footsteps behind me.

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