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

and it

easy-one would

hand, spiritual torment certainly left

me into that pond during my own parents’ funeral.” As Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade

gently pressed it, and the blade cut through

since he avoided

studied her medical books, which described at length about

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

pale. Her pupils dilated even

standing aside, appeared worried that Isaac would get butterfingers and slit her throat. Walking up,

at

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

switchblade into Quincy’s shoulder even before he could

he pulled it out, he gave Stan

miserably, her

help shuddering

despite his disgust and knowledge that Quincy deserved it, he pretended to look sympathetic. Picking up