The Problem With Crazy by Lauren McKellar Page A

baggage check. I quickly followed suit, although I found it a lot more challenging than I’d expected. Stacey expertly navigated her way into the gaps, whereas people seemed to deliberately step in front of me, causing my bag to clip the edge of a chair. Or another bag. Or a little old lady.
    We reached our gate with thirty-five minutes to spare and stopped at the end of the very long line.
    “I think our tickets give us access to the lounge.” Stacey tapped some letters into her phone to investigate. She perched delicately on the edge of her suitcase while I held mine firm, in case my attempt at “perching” ended up with my body in a scrambled mess on the floor.
    “Bitch.”
    As soon as I heard his voice my body tensed, fists tightening and my chest seizing up. Two seconds later I felt a firm grip around my upper arm, bony hands digging into my flesh.
    “Let go.” I turned to shrug Dave off. He was right up in my face, anger dancing in his green eyes.
    “I know you’ve kept the suite,” he spat. “I called to check, and they said you’d transferred it to another hotel.”
    “I paid for it.” I pried his fingers from me and gently massaged the area he’d clenched. “And you have another room, one with the boys. What’s the big deal?”
    Don’t cry .
    Don’t.
    “So what? You paid for it and booked it knowing I’d sleep in it.” Dave’s voice was raised, and I saw a few heads turn to look at us. Apparently eavesdropping at the airport was a non-discrete activity.
    “Dave, you have a room to stay in, anyway. Look, I’m sorry it’s not …” My voice faltered as he took a step closer. I’d never felt physically intimidated by him, but right here, right now—I was glad there were a lot of people around. Even if they were pretty much all looking at us.
    “Maybe you can sleep with one of the girls you flirted with at the show the other night.” Stacey stepped in front of me, acting as a physical shield between Dave and me.
    “Of course you’d be here.” Dave snickered. In the background I heard screams; the sort of screams that signalled Lee Collins and Coal had arrived.
    “Oh, look, the main event is here.” Stacey smirked. “Why don’t you go offer to carry their luggage or something? You know, support them.”
    Dave glanced back. He was tall, rising above the crowd, and I saw him make eye contact with Lee, who was being protected from the masses by four security guards.
    “This is not over.” Dave’s eyes shot daggers into me. He grabbed my hand and dug his nails into my wrist, pulling me close to his skinny chest. “You crazy fucking bitch.”
    He whispered the words gently, but they had their desired effect. When Dave released my wrist I felt my knees go weak, and I gripped my suitcase for support.
    I wasn’t crazy. Even Dad wasn’t crazy. Sick, he was sick, and—
    “So, don’t look now, but Lee Collins is looking at you,” Stacey spoke under her breath. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet, throwing back her head and laughing uproariously.
    “Laugh, I’m pretending you just said something funny,” she whispered. I managed a weak smile. I tried not to fall apart.
    “Just—I need to go.” I grabbed my suitcase handle and started navigating my way through the airport crowds again, Stacey hot on my heels. We made our way to the executive lounge. Thank goodness Dave had been booked into economy class.
    I slid into a stool overlooking the tarmac and nodded my thanks to the waiter when a tall glass of water was placed in front of me. I threw it down my throat in one, big gulp, swallowing so hard it hurt.
    “So, when do you want to talk?” Stacey asked. I looked around. Hundreds of anonymous heads bobbed around us, different colours, shapes and sizes. Their expressions were tense, as frustration and anger filled the air. The line to board wound its way around the terminal like a shoelace.
    “Later.” My voice was somewhere in the soles of my boots.
    I flipped my phone