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 the prospect

death.

death was easy-one would not know it after

hand, spiritual torment certainly left one

slid the switchblade from Quincy’s

it, and the blade cut through

bleed much since

books, which described

a spot one could reach. there, free from blood

pupils dilated even as she felt death loomed, but her

had been standing aside, appeared worried that Isaac would get

up at him, his expression

trying. “She may be heinous, but she’s not

into Quincy’s shoulder

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

whimpering miserably, her facial features

could not help shuddering and

pretended to look sympathetic. Picking up the white bottle, he said, “Oh, poor you. Don’t