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.

like she was meat on the butcher’s table, and it was even more

death.

easy-one would not

other hand, spiritual torment certainly left one

that pond during my own parents’ funeral.” As Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade from Quincy’s face to her neck, and she did

the blade cut through Quincy’s

since he

precise, because he had been sneaking glances while Irene studied her medical books, which

one could

fact, Quincy was already sweating buckets as her face turned pale. Her pupils dilated even as she felt death loomed, but

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

looked up at him,

trying. “She may be heinous, but she’s not worth getting your hands

plunged the switchblade into

out, he gave Stan a

whimpering miserably, her facial features contorted from

help shuddering

disgust and knowledge that Quincy deserved it, he pretended to look sympathetic. Picking up the white bottle, he said, “Oh,