"Where is she?"

Drake scanned the surroundings, noting that there was nowhere to escape.

Peter replied, "She's still in there. It's been five minutes, and she hasn't come out yet."

"Check," Drake ordered.

"Yes, sir." Peter banged on the restroom door, his voice harsh. "Open the door."

There was no response.

"Mr. Lowe is here, and there is no escape. Open the damn door!" Peter's voice grew increasingly agitated, but there was still no response from inside.

He looked back at Drake, confused. "Could it be that she passed out again?"

Drake wasn't a man known for patience. With a swift motion, he pulled a gun from his waist and fired at the lock. The door splintered with a loud crack, and he kicked it open. "Move," he barked.

standing by the sink,

huffed, "Mr. Lowe, is there anything you

sullenly looked back at Peter,

"I called you like ten

always crude, and with Drake having fired his gun, Debra should

good look around. The place is tiny. Where exactly do you think I could have escaped

with embarrassment. "You

an animal. Why should I respond to

"You..." Peter spluttered.

"Enough!" Drake barked.

"I don't like it

QUMS

"Don't worry, I'm not that foolish. Just be clear that I'm not one of your women. I expect basic respect while I'm

as

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