Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Quinn crossed her arms as her sister stormed into the house like a whirlwind, dropping her suitcase just inside the front door and tossing her purse onto the coffee table.
Before she could even react, Layla was already rifling through it, scattering loose change, receipts, and half-used makeup across the surface like a miniature explosion.
Closing her eyes, Quinn inhaled slowly, reaching for patience she wasn’t sure she had left.
She hadn’t known Layla was coming. Would’ve been nice to get a damn warning. Evidently, Gypsy had decided she was missing family—and maybe she was—but Quinn would’ve been just as happy packing a bag and visiting them, rather than having her older sister barge into her space uninvited.
A runaway tube of lipstick rolled across the table. Quinn snatched it up before it could hit the floor. "Layla, this isn’t a good time for a visit," she said, already bracing for the inevitable argument.
Layla huffed, crossing her arms in perfect mimicry of Quinn. "Why not?"
Quinn bit back a sigh. You love her. You love her. You love her. "I’m headed out of town with my girlfriends."
Layla perked up instantly, like a dog hearing the word treat. "Well, can’t I go with you guys?"
Quinn stared at her, barely resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. There was no use fighting it—Layla always got her way, and this would be no different.
"Sure," she muttered, already pulling out her phone as she retreated toward the kitchen. She needed to warn Echo immediately.
Dropping onto the edge of her bed, Quinn pressed her phone to her ear as it rang. And rang. And rang. With a groan, she hung up and fired off a mass text instead.
Quinn: I’m going to have to cancel going this weekend.
Echo’s reply came in seconds.
Echo: Sorry, I didn’t answer. Why?
Quinn: Layla just showed up.
Echo: Just bring her with us. She’s fun.
Quinn stared at the message, one eyebrow twitching. Fun.
Yeah, Layla was fun—right up until the cops got involved.
With a resigned sigh, she typed back:
Quinn: Ok.
Setting her phone aside, Quinn dropped back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
This was going to be a long weekend.
Her phone buzzed again.
Echo: What’s the worst that could happen?
Quinn blinked at the screen, deadpan.
A slow, humorless smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Plenty, she thought grimly.
Plenty could happen with Layla around.
Instead of replying, Quinn tossed the phone onto the nightstand, face-down, and resumed staring blankly at the ceiling, already mentally preparing herself for whatever fresh hell was about to come their way.