by Willow Rose
“And this one is for real. This one I am completely certain is him.”
“Great? Why are you so sure?”
“Get this. They have found Olivia. Her body was found hidden in a mattress in a motel room in Naples.”
“In Naples? That’s not that far from here. Has he really been this close all the time?” I ask.
“Looks like it. And it looks like he got tired of Olivia. She was probably a chain around his leg.”
“And now he is free to roam.”
“Exactly,” she says. “It’s easier for him to be on the run when he’s on his own.”
“That might be,” I say. “But he cannot hide. Not forever at least. Sooner or later, we’ll find him.”
“I’d prefer sooner rather than later.”
“That makes two of us.”
THE END
WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?
Afterword
Dear Reader,
Thank you for purchasing You Can Run (7th Street Crew #2). This was a tough book for me to write, because Marcia’s condition was so devastating. As a writer, I have to put myself in her situation and live it with her. Imagine not knowing what you’re doing half of the time, not knowing if people around you want the best for you or not, or if they’re right when they tell you you’re sick. It is among my greatest fears to one day wake up and realize I have been locked up for life and no one believes anything I say.
I don’t think that will happen, at least not as long as I keep writing.
As always, some of the stories in this book are based on true events. So is the story of Peter Elingston, the man with Cerebral Palsy and the woman who falls in love with him. You might know of it since it has been quite a big media story, but in case you don’t, here’s a link to some of the articles I read about the case:
http://www.slate.com/blogs/the_slatest/2015/09/22/anna_stubblefield_case_the_rutgers_newark_professor_is_accused_of_citing.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/25/magazine/the-strange-case-of-anna-stubblefield.html?smtyp=cur&_r=0
If you can, please leave a review. It means the world to me. And don’t forget to read the excerpt following this and to check out my other books by following the links below.
Take care,
Willow
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Books by the Author
Mystery/Horror Novels:
WHAT HURTS THE HOST (7th Street Crew #1) - Grab your copy today
YOU CAN RUN (7th Street Crew #2) - Grab your copy today
YOU CAN’T HIDE (7th Street Crew #3) - Grab your copy today
HIT THE ROAD JACK (Jack Ryder #1) - Grab your copy today
SLIP OUT THE BACK JACK (Jack Ryder #2) - Grab your copy today
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT (Jack Ryder #3) - Grab your copy today
ONE, TWO... HE IS COMING FOR YOU (Rebekka Franck #1) - Grab your copy today
THREE, FOUR ... BETTER LOCK YOUR DOOR (Rebekka Franck #2) - Grab your copy today
FIVE, SIX ... GRAB YOUR CRUCIFIX (Rebekka Franck #3) - Grab your copy today
SEVEN, EIGHT... GONNA STAY UP LATE (Rebekka Franck #4) - Grab your copy today
NINE, TEN... NEVER SLEEP AGAIN (Rebekka Franck #5) -Grab your copy today
ELEVEN, TWELVE... DIG AND DELVE (Rebekka Franck #6) - Grab your copy today
THIRTEEN, FOURTEEN... LITTLE BOY UNSEEN (Rebekka Franck #7) - Grab your copy today
EDWINA - Grab your copy today
ITSY BITSY SPIDER (Emma Frost #1) - Grab your copy today
MISS POLLY HAD A DOLLY (Emma Frost #2)- Grab your copy today
RUN, RUN, AS FAST AS YOU CAN (Emma Frost #3) - Grab your copy today
CROSS YOUR HEART AND HOPE TO DIE (Emma Frost #4) - Grab your copy today
PEEK A BOO I SEE YOU (Emma Frost #5) - Grab your copy today
TWEEDLEDUM AND TWEEDLEDEE (Emma Frost #6) - Grab your copy today
EASY AS ONE TWO THREE (Emma Frost #7) - Grab your copy today
THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME (Emma Frost #8) - Grab your copy today
SLENDERMAN (Emma Frost #9) - Grab your copy today
WHERE THE WILD ROSES GROW (Emma Frost #10) - Grab your copy today
* * *
Horror Short Stories:
EENIE, MEENIE - Grab your copy today
ROCK-A-BYE BABY - Grab your copy today
NIBBLE, NIBBLE, CRUNCH - Grab your copy today
HUMPTY, DUMPTY - Grab your copy today
CHAIN LETTER - Grab your copy today
* * *
Paranormal Romance/Suspense/Fantasy Novels:
BEYOND (Afterlife #1) - Grab your copy today
SERENITY (Afterlife #2) - Grab your copy today
ENDURANCE (Afterlife #3) - Grab your copy today
COURAGEOUS (Afterlife #4) - Grab your copy today
SAVAGE (Daughters of the Jaguar #1) - Grab your copy today
BROKEN (Daughters of the Jaguar #2) - Grab your copy today
SONG FOR A GYPSY (The Eye of the Crystal Ball -The Wolfboy Chronicles) - Grab your copy today
I AM WOLF (The Wolfboy Chronicles) - Grab your copy today
* * *
Box Sets:
JACK RYDER MYSTERY SERIES BOX SET: VOL 1-3 - Grab your copy today
REBEKKA FRANCK SERIES VOL 1-3 - Grab your copy today
REBEKKA FRANCK SERIES VOL 4-6 - Grab your copy today
REBEKKA FRANCK SERIES VOL 1-5 - Grab your copy today
EMMA FROST MYSTERY SERIES VOL 1-3 - Grab your copy today
EMMA FROST MYSTERY SERIES VOL 4-6 - Grab your copy today
EMMA FROST MYSTERY SERIES VOL 7-9 - Grab your copy today
EMMA FROST MYSTERY SERIES VOL 1-5 - Grab your copy today
DAUGHTERS OF THE JAGUAR BOX SET - Grab your copy today
THE AFTERLIFE SERIES (BOOKS 1-3)- Grab your copy today
HORROR STORIES FROM DENMARK - Grab your copy today
THE WOLFBOY CHRONICLES - Grab your copy today
* * *
About the Author
The Queen of Scream, Willow Rose, is an international best-selling author. She writes Mystery/Suspense/Horror, Paranormal Romance and Fantasy. She is inspired by authors like James Patterson, Agatha Christie, Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Isabel Allende. She lives on Florida's Space Coast with her husband and two daughters. When she is not writing or reading, you'll find her surfing and watching the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. She has sold more than a million books.
Connect with Willow online:
@madamwillowrose
willowredrose
willow-rose.net
[email protected]
Slenderman
Excerpt
For a special sneak peak of Willow Rose's Bestselling Mystery Novel Slenderman turn to the next page.
Someone’s always watching me
Someone’s always there
When I’m sleeping he just waits,
and he stares
Someone’s always standing in
the darkest corner of my room
He’s tall and wears a suit in black,
dressed like the perfect groom
Where are you going?
Why won’t you stay?
They might be scared of you,
but I just want to play
He has no face
He hides with the trees
He loves little children when they beg and scream…
Please!
~ Slendy’s Lullaby by Lily Pichu
https://www.youtube.com/Slendy's Lullaby
Prologue
November 2014
Someone was watching him. Rasmus Krohn was happy to finally see his friend again. He turned his head and glared at the door to his bedroom, to make sure no one was awake in th
e house other than him. It was one in the morning. They should all be asleep.
Rasmus turned his head to face the screen again. With much eagerness, he let his fingers dance across the keyboard.
>Hi there. Where have you been?<
>Hello<
Rasmus thought he heard a sound, and turned to look at the door once again. He held his breath. Someone was in the hallway outside. He followed the steps as they walked across the carpet. It sounded like his father. The steps were heavy, not like his mother’s that were usually light because she would be tiptoeing in order to not wake up the kids. Rasmus followed the sound of the steps and breathed in relief when they passed his door and continued towards the bathroom. There was a bump, then his father complaining and cursing. After that, the door was closed. Rasmus breathed again. He turned off the small lamp on his desk next to the computer. The light coming from under his door could reveal him.
He received a new message from his friend.
>Are you ready?<
Rasmus looked at the blinking message on the bottom of the screen. He heard his dad flush the toilet and the water start running. The old man cursed again, probably bumped his toe or his head, as usual, the drunk. Rasmus held his breath as his dad opened the door to the bathroom and entered the hallway again. He turned down the light on the screen to low and sat in darkness. Rasmus’s dad walked across the carpet outside, then stopped. Rasmus’s heart was pounding in his chest. He could sense his dad was right outside his door now.
Would he come in to check on him? Or to pull him out of bed and start beating on him like last time?
His parents had told Rasmus so many times not to use his computer at night. Especially on a school night. His dad would be furious if he found out.
The seconds that passed felt like years. Everything inside of him was screaming. If his father walked through that door and found him by the computer, it was all over. They would take the computer away, they had told him…even though Rasmus had saved up for it and paid for it on his own. It wasn’t good for him, his mother said.
As if she has any idea what’s good for me! She doesn’t even know how to take care of herself, let alone her children.
Rasmus stared at the bed and wondered if he could make it over there if the door handle moved. He could sense his dad was out there still. He even believed he could smell the booze on his breath.
Just go to bed, you fucking drunk. Leave me alone. Leave all of us alone!
Rasmus’s hands were shaking when he remembered what had happened the last time his father had come through that door at night. He still had the bruise on his back from the baseball bat.
Just go back to bed, you asshole! Find someone else to bother.
He felt the rage rising inside of him. The humiliation was the worst; the fact that he still couldn’t fight back was painful. At the age of fifteen, Rasmus was still scrawny. No one took him seriously. No one regarded him as anyone. But soon, they would. He was going to make sure of that.
The steps moved on across the carpet and Rasmus breathed again. He heard the door to his parents’ bedroom shut and everything go quiet again. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair for a few seconds before he turned up the light on the screen again. The expressionless white face of the tall and slender man stared back at him from behind the screen. He had written a new message.
>It’s time<
Chapter One
November 2014
I HAD TIPTOED around the cigar box for two weeks now. I was back in my house after the renovation which followed the fire, and sitting in my wonderful new kitchen with a coffee and a pastry, staring at the box on the table in front of me.
I hadn’t opened it yet.
The construction workers gave it to me after we were allowed to move back in. One of the men handed it to me, telling me he had no idea what else to do with it.
“We found it when we fixed the roof. It fell out when we removed the old wood and replaced it with the new,” he said.
The man in the yellow helmet followed his statement with a shrug, and I took the old dirty box out of his hands. It had been with me ever since. I had taken it in my purse with me everywhere, and taken it out now and then to look at it, but never opened it. Not yet, at least.
“Aren’t you curious?” Morten had asked several times when he caught me staring at it. “Why don’t you take a look?”
“I’m extremely curious,” I answered.
Yet, I still hadn’t dared to open it. It wasn’t like me at all. What was I afraid of? I asked myself over and over. I didn’t know. I kind of felt like the box didn’t belong to me. Like I was intruding somehow on someone’s personal life. Like I was supposed to find its original owners and give it back. But I had no idea who they were. I didn’t even know if anyone would care enough about it to want it back. It wasn’t an ordinary box. Anyone could tell it wasn’t. It was dusty and dirty from being up there under the roof behind the wood. Someone had cared enough about it to hide it well for many years. Maybe it was of importance to that person. Maybe I was violating this person’s need to keep whatever was in it hidden?
The thought only made me more curious.
I touched the front again and ran my hand across it. On the cover was a handwritten name in cursive.
Larsen
“Maybe it belonged to your grandmother?” Morten had asked, but it wasn’t my family’s name. It wasn’t even my grandmother’s maiden name. I didn’t know any Larsen. It was a pretty common name here in Denmark, so it could be anyone.
I tapped my fingers on the kitchen table and sipped my coffee. I had decided that today would be the day when I finally opened the lid. My fingers marched across the top.
Just a little peek won’t hurt anyone.
I tried telling myself that maybe by opening it I could figure out to whom it belonged and maybe get it back to the rightful owners. It just seemed so private. My fingers touched the front once again and stroked it gently, while I wondered what great things could be in there. I kind of enjoyed having my own little fantasy about what it would reveal, and some part of me was really afraid to be disappointed as well. Maybe that was why I hadn’t opened it yet. Maybe I was simply afraid of ruining the illusion. I was afraid of finding cooking recipes or grocery lists or something boring. I wanted this to be special. That was also why I waited till the house was empty before I finally lifted the lid with the tips of my fingers. I held my breath as I finally pulled it off. I was about to close it again, thinking I had no right to be going through it, but curiosity won. After all, it could just be cooking recipes, and then no one would feel like I had invaded their private life. Maybe there were even some I could use?
Slowly, I looked inside. My heart was pounding in my chest as I pulled out a stack of letters, all neatly bound together with a ribbon. I put the letters on the table and took in a deep breath. Carefully, I untied the ribbon. All the letters were addressed to the same person, my grandmother. I opened one and started reading the contents. Two pages fully written from top to bottom in cursive using blue ink. A date was at the top.
March 22nd 1959.
I read the first sentence out loud to myself.
“Dearest sister. He is the most beautiful child in the world.”
Chapter Two
March 1959
HE IS THE MOST beautiful child in the world. I can’t believe how lucky I am. Oh, sister. I wish you were here with me. You’d be as enchanted as I am.
Helle Larsen glanced at her baby, who was sleeping in the crib next to her desk at the nursery where she was writing her letter. She couldn’t believe how good he had been. Only three weeks old, and already sleeping through the night. He was nothing like his brothers. They had kept her up all night for weeks until she finally let them cry through the night. It wasn’t something she had enjoyed; as a matter of fact, it was the worst part about having a baby. To have to ignore them night after night till they finally gave up. If it had been Helle’s choice, she would have kep
t going in to the nursery to take care of them to make sure they didn’t feel left alone, but both the nurse and her mother had told her this was the way to do it. This was the way they had done it for years. It was best for her, they said. That way, she would get her rest, and the children would know who was in charge.
“After a few weeks, they’ll figure it out,” Helle’s mother had said. “If you keep going in there every night, they’ll keep crying. It’s very simple. If you don’t come, they give up.”
So, now that Per already slept through the night, and had done so for almost a week, Helle hoped she wouldn’t have to go through the same process as with the two others. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be necessary.
“Helle!”
Her husband was calling from downstairs. Helle finished the letter, put it in an envelope and put her sister’s name and address on it before she hurried out of the nursery, careful not to wake up her sleeping son. She rushed down the stairs. Her husband Claes was standing in the kitchen with his muddy boots planted on her newly washed floors.
“Where’s my lunch?” he yelled.
“It’s in the refrigerator, ready for you,” she said, and ran to the refrigerator and pulled out a plate with four slices of rye bread with four different toppings. One with herring and onions, one with liver pate, one with mackerel, and one with cheese.
Claes growled and took the plate out of her hand.
“I didn’t know when you were coming in,” she argued, to excuse herself for his lunch not being on the table. Her husband was with the animals all day, or in the fields of their farm, and only had a short time to eat. And it was never at the same time that he decided it was time to eat. He was always busy and always grumpy.
