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Then there's a knock at the door, and Mack heads over to open it. I brace myself, knowing it's my sister Miranda at the door, ready for whatever news she's bringing.
Chapter twenty-two
Tommy
Miranda storms in, not waiting for an invite, and immediately wraps Tilly in a hug. "Papa told me about their plans, and I was freaking out." She pulls away only to smack Tilly on the arm. "Why was your phone off? I've been trying to reach you all night."
Tilly's cheeks turn pink, and she quickly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, shooting me a sheepish look.
Miranda doesn't miss a beat, rolling her eyes. "Lord. Like you’ve never gotten laid before."
"Andy!" Tilly exclaims, her face now a deeper shade of red. She sweeps an arm out, gesturing at my mom. "This is Tommy’s mother, Henrietta."
Miranda greets Henrietta without skipping a beat, "Nice to meet you. But I won’t apologize, my sister is being irresponsible." I watch, a mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment washing over me as Tilly tries to defend herself against Miranda's blunt assessments.
"I'm sorry she's being rude," Tilly says, shooting a glare at her sister.
Miranda throws her hands up in exasperation. "This is all kinds of crazy. Keep your damn phone on, Til!" Her stance, so similar to Tilly's, makes me chuckle.
Both women turn their narrowed eyes on me immediately. "What's so damn funny?" Tilly asks.
Henrietta quickly points out, "I think he's amused because you and your... twin, I assume... are quite alike. It's like you're arguing with a mirror."
Tilly finally cracks a small smile at that, but Miranda isn't as easily amused. "Okay, yes, twins are hilarious. Can we sit and talk, or just balk at the wonder of genetics?"
We all nod and make our way to the couch. Tilly seems nervous, constantly rubbing her thighs, looking anywhere but at us. It's almost as if she's preparing herself to be scolded. Like a kid sitting outside the principal’s office. I snake my arm back around her shoulder and kiss her cheek. It's a small gesture, but one I need to do. Every moment I'm not touching her, I'm afraid. Of what? I really don't know.
"So…" Tilly says. Everyone is looking at her expectantly. I'm not exactly sure what this little impromptu meeting is for, but I'm hoping for some answers.
"Maybe start with what the hell your family is into," I say.
Tilly glances at her sister. There's an odd moment where the two of them seem to have some sort of weird twin conversation with their eyes. I have no idea what they're trying to convey, but on looks alone, I would guess it's a battle of wills. Oof. I wouldn't want to be in the middle of that.
"Just tell them! Keaton was here with dumb and dumber. They threatened to burn her house down. I think they deserve to know," Tilly says.
"Like that makes them special," Miranda says with a scoff, but there isn't heat in it like before. Steely-gazed, Tilly doesn't move an inch. She only continues to stare at her sister with a heated gaze.
Miranda glances back with a stern look. "As long as they don't run to the cops. We know how that'll end."
Taking a deep breath, Tilly nods. She looks… small. Scared even. Seeing her this uneasy is becoming my least favorite pastime; the topic of her family makes her shrink, almost disappear into herself. It's heartbreaking.
"I'm not sure about all the details," she begins, gaining a bit of strength. "Our family owns about fifteen businesses. They were under my dad's name, but I think they went to Tia after he... died."
Miranda nods but stays quiet. At the gesture, Tilly keeps going. "All the businesses are very successful, but that's because they're laundering money."
Silence falls over us. I had my suspicions, especially after what Greg mentioned about the DEA.
"Who's the money for?" Henrietta asks, curiosity laced in her voice.
Miranda stops her. "Don't ask that."
Tilly looks even more distressed. "She's right. We better not get into that. But our family is always looking to expand their laundering operations. Tia..." She pauses, her voice quivering, her hands shaking in mine. "Tia wants to use the surf shop. It's an ideal front because surf lessons don’t have much overhead," Miranda finishes for her.
Though Tilly had mentioned it to me before, I still don’t like hearing it. The Sanderson Surf Shack is such a staple in all our lives. Maybe we had a good thing in Costa Rica, but we were just kids, working. Here, Sam has built something with Greg that is her next step, her whole livelihood. It’s incomprehensible—a four-dollar word if I ever heard one—that Tia would do something like this to the sanctity of their business.
"And she isn't good at taking no for an answer," Miranda says. Her tone is soft yet somehow menacing, leaving the threat hanging in the air.
"What will happen if you refuse?" I ask, already afraid of the answer.
