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.

could only whimper, her pupils dilating as her whole body

on the butcher’s table, and

easy-one would

the other hand, spiritual torment certainly left one wishing

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

and the

since he avoided any arteries-but

been sneaking glances while Irene studied her medical books, which described at length about a

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

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

worried that Isaac would get butterfingers and slit her

looked up at him, his

may be heinous, but

Isaac suddenly plunged the switchblade into Quincy’s shoulder even before

he gave Stan a look.

her facial

could not help shuddering and

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