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.

only whimper, her pupils dilating as her whole

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

death was easy-one would

torment certainly left one wishing they

parents’ funeral.” As Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade from Quincy’s face to her neck,

the blade cut through

much since he

Irene studied her medical books, which described at length about a human’s vulnerable spots,

vulnerable spot especially given the jugular, there was a spot one could reach. there, free from blood vessels but rife with nerves,

pupils dilated even as she felt death loomed, but her mind

would get butterfingers and slit her throat.

at him, his expression

kept trying. “She may be heinous, but she’s not worth getting your hands

plunged the switchblade into

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

miserably, her facial features

not help shuddering and

look sympathetic. Picking up