The Runaway Groom

Chapter 342

There was a small white bottle, a switchblade, and a lighter.

None of them were particularly deadly, but with a little work, it could still inflict damage to the human body.

Quincy therefore had to act calm. “We’re in a police station.”

Stan chuckled. “We know that, so we won’t do anything stupid. That said, I’m quite close with that officer just now, so he’s willing to give us some space.”

Quinc’ys face paled, even as Stan took off his tie and stuffed it into her mouth.

Isaac rose to his feet as well, picking up the switchblade and ejecting the blade-it was not particularly huge, but very sharp.

“I can do it, sir,” Stan said, walking up to him.

Isaac, however, stayed silent as he walked around the table toward Quincy and pressed the blade against Quincy’s face.

He just needed to apply little pressure, and the blade would cut through Quincy’s skin.

Quincy could only whimper, her pupils dilating as her whole body stiffened.

was meat on the butcher’s table, and it was even more terrifying than

death.

easy-one would

other hand, spiritual torment certainly left one wishing

As Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade from Quincy’s face to her neck, and she did not move at

pressed it, and the blade cut through

not bleed much since

be precise, because he had been sneaking glances while Irene studied her medical books, which described at length

jugular, there was a spot one

as her face turned pale. Her pupils dilated even as she felt

get butterfingers and slit her throat. Walking up, he said,

at

but she’s not worth getting your

plunged the switchblade into Quincy’s shoulder even before he could

it out, he gave Stan a look. “Don’t

her

help shuddering and

knowledge that Quincy deserved it, he pretended to look sympathetic. Picking up the white