Free I'm Not in Love (Once Upon a Winter Book 2) by Tilly Tennant Page B

early. There would be awkward questions. But it wasn’t like she had to answer them, was it? Stuff them, if Hannah wanted to go and collect her bag it was her business. Still, she folded her coat up as small as it would go and stuffed it under her arm as she headed back into the ballroom.
    ‘Is everything ok?’ Mitchell asked as Hannah arrived back.
    ‘Of course… why wouldn’t it be?’ Hannah ducked under the table. Shit… where was that handbag? Scooting underneath, she felt around, until her hand touched leather and she grabbed it, tucking it under her arm and bumping her head on the table on the way back out. As she emerged she saw Martine reach for her drink to steady it as the table gave a precarious wobble.
    ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ Martine asked, smoothing away an annoyed frown.
    ‘Yes… I um… I just need… it was lovely to see you both, really, but…’ Why did she think it was necessary to give them a reason for leaving? She had no idea whether Mitchell had meant what she thought he had, and if he had, what on earth could she say with Martine sitting there? It was far easier simply to leave. One thing was certain; her life would have been easier had Mitchell not ended up on her doorstep that day. Perhaps, had she known then what she knew now, she might have slammed it shut in his face.
Something was leading me to you
…. that was what he’d said, wasn’t it? Well that
something
could bloody well piss off because she didn’t need that sort of complication in her life.
    Without another word, she hurried out into the night.
    *
    The temperature seemed to have dropped by degrees in a matter of minutes as Hannah huddled into her coat, wishing she’d opted for a thicker one. Frost glinted on the grass that lined the roadside and her breath curled into the air. The road leading directly away from the hotel was well lit, but as she walked further on, the gaps between streetlamps became longer and longer, until she found herself in eerie pockets of blackness, thankful for the meagre light from her phone that she had now resorted to using in order to prevent her breaking an ankle on the road. Sobriety had hit too, and she was beginning to wonder if this was the stupidestthing she’d ever done. Gina would be furious, despite the brief text to let her know that she was heading home and would sleep on the sofa to let Gina in when she arrived back (if, indeed, she did arrive back that night). Hannah couldn’t help but feel vexed about that situation, if the truth was told. She had no right to be angry about Gina and Ross getting together – they were both consenting adults, of course – but she couldn’t help but feel that they might have been a bit more discreet, bearing in mind that the party was full of people Ross and Hannah knew, including his doting parents. She expected Gina to know better, but then, wasn’t she acting just as stupidly right now? Drink and betrayal did funny things to a person.
    She was pulled from her thoughts by a faint rhythmic tapping from behind her. Were they footsteps? Footsteps on this dark and lonely road, miles away from her house – from any house for that matter…
Way to go, Meadows, hacked to death by a mad axe murderer, all because you can’t handle a grown-up conversation with a member of the opposite sex
. She quickened her pace, trying to swallow the panic that bubbled up through her chest. But the footsteps behind seemed to quicken too, matching her own. The barely controlled panic was now turning into abject fear, and Hannah broke into a run. Where the hell she thought she was running to she had no idea. Not only would she end up dead in a field, her feet would be covered in blisters, her heels broken and her hair a streaming mess.
    Whoever was behind her broke into a run too, and it took her a whole five seconds to register that her name was being called. She stopped and spun around. Mitchell was charging towards her.
    ‘What are you doing?’