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.

whimper, her pupils dilating as

and it

would not know it after the

spiritual torment certainly left one wishing

Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade from Quincy’s face

it, and the

since

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

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

as her face turned pale. Her pupils dilated even as she

appeared worried that Isaac would get butterfingers and slit her throat. Walking up, he said, “Leave

up at him,

heinous, but she’s not worth getting your

the switchblade into Quincy’s shoulder even before he

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

whimpering miserably, her facial features contorted from

help

deserved it, he pretended to look sympathetic. Picking up the