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.

her pupils dilating as her whole body

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

was easy-one would not know it

hand, spiritual torment certainly left one wishing

pond during my own parents’ funeral.” As Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade from Quincy’s face to

pressed it, and the blade cut through Quincy’s

did not bleed much since he avoided any arteries-but

he had been sneaking glances while Irene studied her medical books, which described at length about a human’s vulnerable spots, where it hurt or had the

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

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

worried that Isaac would get butterfingers and slit her throat.

at

but she’s not worth getting your hands

into Quincy’s

he gave Stan

her

not help

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