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.

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

death.

would not know it

certainly

during my own parents’ funeral.” As Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade from Quincy’s

pressed it, and the

since he

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

was a vulnerable spot especially given the jugular, there was a spot one could reach. there,

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

had been standing aside, appeared worried that Isaac would get butterfingers and

at him, his expression

kept trying. “She may be heinous, but

suddenly plunged the switchblade into Quincy’s shoulder even

he gave Stan a look. “Don’t disappoint

whimpering miserably, her facial features

help shuddering

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