Too Many Tears

Wine

Maxim's POV

She's been gone for over 2 weeks. When I got that dreaded email I watched the beginning of the video and then when the man made a move I turned away, disgusted. I can only imagine what she's going through. Afterwards, I reported the video to the police. I wish I could've done more but there's nothing else I can do. 

After everything she's been through with Karla and now this. What's even worse is I have an idea who it might be. if it's him, I'll fucking kill him. Before I kill him I'll make sure he apologizes. He's gonna wish he was never born after I'm done with him. 

All I can remember is her light green eyes piercing into my soul. She had a way with people that made them love her, including me. I knew it was wrong but I couldn't help thinking about the way her wavy chestnut hair barely flowed past her waist. She told me her hair was her pride and joy. The way she walked, so full of purpose.  The way she tried to please everybody around her. Her bright smile even when she wanted to fall apart.

I knew from the way she looked at me that she had a hidden lust in her eyes. It could be nothing, but she was so full of emotion and practically an open book.  She wore her heart on her sleeve. She'd make an amazing therapist, we have to find her. Help her...

Plus, I have some places to look into. If it is Trevor then I have an idea of where she might be. I'll call the police anonymously and then I'm going to drive over there myself. I can't just sit here and do nothing.

I hope the fucker showed her the email I sent. That should give her some hope, hopefully.

Charlie's POV

Trevor hasn't taken his sight off me for hours. His cold grey eyes could pierce a hole into the back of my head if he tried hard enough. I wish he would just leave me alone! 

I'm in my little empty room sitting on my poor excuse for a bed. I've been thinking of an escape plan all day and so far, nothing. Especially if I can't get a moment to myself! My frustration building. Why does he care so much about hurting Professor Myers. Maybe I should call him by his first name, Maxim.

"Maxim" I whisper, his name sounding wrong in my voice.

"What was that Charlie?" Trevor asks, curious.

I shake my head and continue staring at the blank white wall. What to do? What to do!? I don't know!

Trevor's phone rings and after a few minutes of talking he comes over, grabbing my arm, yanking me up roughly. 

"Hey!" I yell.

He takes me to a room and throws a form fitting black dress with a slit up the side at me. I carefully pick up the dress, the material feels really expensive. I sigh, of course it would. 

I change into the dress with Trevor watching me and then he drags me downstairs to a straight black limo. He opens the door and shoves me inside. 

If this was any other time I would admire the sleek interior of the limo. The dim blue lights creating a special kind of ambience. The wine bottles in an ice tray 5 feet away. The fancy chocolate that looks like it costs 10 dollars for a 1 inch square. I've never been in a limo, ever. Not like most 19 year old's have anyways, but still. For some reason I feel special? I know I shouldn't because this is definitely not anything special, for me at least. The only reason I'm in a limo is because Trevor is extremely rich. The only reason I'm with Trevor is because he kidnapped me. 

I should be more cautious. Plus, I haven't got the slightest idea where he's taking me. 

Trevor slides in beside me and hands me a wine glass. I shake my head and start to tell him I'm not of legal age but he stops me. What does it matter to him? 

He pours the expensive wine into my glass and into his own. He takes a big gulp and motions to me. Reluctantly I take a small sip, it doesn't taste bad. However, I won't drink anymore. I need to stay sober if I have any shot at escaping. 

"If you don't drink that entire glass I'm going to make you regret it" His says bitterly, with a warning glance.

I pick the glass back up and take a few more sips. What can one drink do?

1 hour later...

Turns out, one drink can do a lot. I also didn't drink just one. He kept handing them to me and forcing me to drink glass after glass. I don't know how many I've had by now, maybe around 3 or 5, maybe? 

I'm not used to drinking alcohol and it shows. My head feels light and airy. My vision a little blurry. I feel really happy and bubbly too. When I look at Trevor I see someone entirely different, someone kinder. I lay my head on his shoulder. Maybe he'll protect me. He feels so warm and solid. I look up at him and giggle, his eyes are beautiful. He looks down at me smiling. Does he think I'm pretty? Maybe, I'm not ugly, I don't think. 

I continue thinking to myself until the limo stops and Trevor pushes me up. I take his hand and we walk into a club of some sort. Almost tripping over my floor length dress I lean on him for support. My mind not realizing just how wrong this really is. He talks to a few people and were lead to a private room in the corner. I sit down and he pours me more wine.

"I can't..." I start.

"Drink."

"What about yourself?" I ask, confused.

He shakes his head and glares at me until I pick up the filled glass. I sip slowly. Why isn't he drinking anything? He only had one glass in the limo. 

Trevor gets up and offers me his hand. I place my own into his and he leads me to the dance floor where a few couples are clumsily dancing. 

"Dance with me" He tells me, his grey eyes looking into mine.

I never realized how handsome he was until now. The way his hand wraps around my waist, pulling me close. I place one hand on his shoulder and the other in his open hand. 

Then I realize I don't even know how old he is. I probably should. He looks forty something. Maybe not though? I decide to just ask.

"Trevor, how old are you?"

He laughs and pulls me closer to him, the smell of cologne fills my nose. I can't quite figure out what kind. A very subtle fresh smell, suits him well. 

"Darling, does that really concern you?"

I thought it did. Why did I want to know again? 

Then I remember, he's like twice my age. That's must be some type of illegal. Right?

"Please?" I ask as if it's a question.

"I'm 41 Charlie. I don't know why you care. Age is just a number sweetheart" he says, twirling me.

My dress sparkles as I spin, my mind soaring. I feel so free, so alive. I get dizzy when he stops me and almost fall. Luckily he catches me and I'm left dazed. Then I realize...

I'm not free. This man is not my friend. The wine is messing with my morals. I push him away, stumbling.

"Charlie, let's not make a scene."

I rush towards the lounge area, knowing he won't let me walk out the front door. I sit down on the coach and the tears form. What the hell is wrong with me!?