Page 300 of That Time I Accidentally Became A Serial Killer

“For?” He casts his hands out. “Me, perhaps?”

He eyes me hungrily. “I’m getting a very strong Nurse/Patient roleplay vibe here, and it’s doing it for me.”

I deadpan.

“Cheeseburger. Extra pickles. Fries. And a chocolate milkshake the size of my chef’s knife. Stat.”

He laughs—deep, real. Takes my hand, kisses my knuckles.

“How could I say no to the love of my life?”

He pulls out, one hand on the wheel, driving in that way that makes his forearm send Morse-code arousal signals to my lady bits.

His other hand rests on my thigh, fingers curling tight.

He doesn’t look at me when he says, “You’re the only thing I’ve ever done right.”

I study the man who hunted me, saved me, loved me.

"I’m all yours, McPerky," I say, sliding my hand over his. "And I’m not going anywhere."

“Oh, I know that.” He winks. Squeezes my thigh like letting go might kill him.

As we disappear into the night, the weight of it all behind us, I feel it settle in my bones.

Not peace—but something better.

Power.

And love.

Dark. Twisted. And all ours.

“Hey, what do you think of my very own incinerator?”

Two Years Later

Mariela’s still glowing when I slip back into the hospital room, her husband, Javier, hovering protectively at her side like he might fend off germs with his bare hands.

And in his arms? The world’s newest little queen—wrapped in a pink blanket like destiny stitched her from stardust and sugar.

“She’s perfect,” I whisper, kissing Mari’s forehead.

Mariela grins, exhausted but radiant. “Thank you. For everything.”

I set a small gift bag beside the stupidly large bouquet of roses and the onesie I picked out weeks ago—white, with tiny gold lettering:

Future Attorney – Winning Arguments at 2 a.m.

Right on cue, the sweet bundle of joy grunts. Her face turns an alarming shade of purple, and sounds from the demonic tar pits of Mordor bubble in her tiny diaper.

Javier recoils, yanking his hand back like the baby just detonated. Mari bursts out laughing—then winces, clutching her stomach. “Ow. Totally worth it.”

I squeeze her hand, soaking in the warm, fragile tenderness before stepping back.

The night Mari nearly slipped away flickers like a ghost in my mind—but today?

Today she’s here. Whole. Laughing. Alive.

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