"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.

by

about the intrusion, she huffed, "Mr. Lowe, is there anything you need

at

called you like ten times. Are

Drake having fired his gun, Debra should have heard

Debra snorted, "Take a good look around. The place is tiny. Where exactly do you think I could have

face flushed with

Why should I respond to you?"

"You..." Peter spluttered.

"Enough!" Drake barked.

his grip cold and rough. "I don't like it when people push me. One more stunt, and

QUMS

clear that I'm not one of your women. I expect basic

as

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