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.

pupils dilating as her whole

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

death was easy-one would not

other hand, spiritual torment certainly left one wishing they

pushed me 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

and the blade cut through

much since he avoided any arteries-but it

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

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

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

Isaac would get butterfingers and slit her throat. Walking

at

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

the switchblade into Quincy’s

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

whimpering miserably, her facial

not help shuddering

he pretended to look sympathetic. Picking up the white bottle, he said, “Oh, poor