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.

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

death.

would

other hand, spiritual torment certainly left one wishing

parents’ funeral.” As Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade from Quincy’s face to her neck, and she did not move at all-she was basically

pressed it, and the blade cut through

since he avoided any arteries-but

be precise, because he had been sneaking glances while Irene studied her medical books, which described at length about a human’s

was a spot one could reach. there, free from blood vessels but rife with nerves, making it

face turned pale. Her pupils dilated even as she felt

would get butterfingers and slit her

up at him, his expression

kept trying. “She may be heinous, but she’s

Isaac suddenly plunged the switchblade into

out, he gave Stan a look. “Don’t disappoint

miserably, her facial features contorted

not help

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