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.

meat on the butcher’s table,

death.

easy-one would not

torment certainly left

into that pond during my own 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

it, and the blade cut

bleed much since he avoided any arteries-but

her medical books, which described at length about a human’s vulnerable spots, where it

jugular, there was a spot one could reach. there, free from blood vessels but

Quincy was already sweating buckets as her face turned pale. Her pupils dilated even

get butterfingers and slit her throat. Walking

at

“She may be heinous, but she’s not worth

plunged the switchblade into Quincy’s shoulder even before

pulled it out, he gave Stan a look.

whimpering miserably, her

not help shuddering and

pretended to look sympathetic. Picking