□ Reginald Hill □
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□ Chatting and Questions □

I go meet Steve in his office while he's throwing some of his medical supplies into the toxic trash bin. Steve looks up at me and grins widely. "Hey, cuz!" Steve laughs a bit, waving. I wave back happily.

"Hey, Steve. Glad to meet you in person," I say, going into the room. Steve finished tossing the medical supplies and takes the bin out. Safety hazard. It's better for the hospital to recycle this instead of simply throwing it away. Steve comes back, having taken off his doctor's coat.

"Hey," he says. I chuckle as we sit down. I hand him his coffee and the bag. He nibbles on a lemon-blueberry muffin and sips his drink, and I do the same. There's silence as we eat. What is there to say so far?

Steve swallows a swig of coffee and says, "How's life treating you?" I grin because he broke the silence with an excited look in his eye. I think about my answer and respond, "Life's been good, I suppose. I came out to my parents. They accepted me." Steve nods, smiling. More silence comes up.

"I'm sorry to hear about your dad," I say. Steve shrugs his shoulders lightly. "It's okay. I don't believe in any religion, but I think Dad's happy with Mom in Heaven," he says. I relax. But Harry enters my mind.

"Do you know someone named Harry Anderson?" I ask. Steve answers, "Yes," with a mouth full of food. I cringe a bit. "Yes, my father taught me not to speak with food in my mouth," says Steve as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. He sips his coffee and says, "I know Harry."

He sighs, and the happiness has dimmed in his eyes. "It's a shame what's happening to him," he mutters. I hear what he says and tilt my head. Steve curses underneath his breath and tells me, "It's doctor-patient confidentiality. I'd be betraying his trust if I told you without his permission." I sigh.

"He seemed scared of me, Steve," I say. Steve now looks like he's on guard. His eyes narrow, and his jaw is tense. "It's okay if you can't tell me, but give me a hint?" I suggest. He takes a deep breath and says, "Abuse and rape."

When I walked to the coffee shop in hopes of getting a job, I can't shake off the feeling of rage inside me. Harry is being abused? He was raped? I'm wondering who's causing him this pain, this terror. Steve wouldn't tell me, and I understand why.

If I were trusted with a secret like this, I wouldn't tell anyone. Steve told me two major details, but that was it. Nothing else was revealed. I won't tell anyone this. This'll be a secret I'm keeping.

I’m wondering who is abusing Harry. Who’d want to hurt him? I can't answer that question myself. Not on my own. Harry wouldn't tell anyone apart from Steve, and my cousin won't tell me at all.

I won't tell anyone about this. Wild horses couldn't drag the secret from me. If I meet Harry again, I'll strike up a conversation with him. If his boyfriend or girlfriend hates me, who cares? Harry will.

As I begin to get used to life in Superior, Harry has been walking with this man. He had this dark look in his eye and was gripping Harry's hand tightly. Harry looked terrified. He didn't want to be with this guy, that much was obvious. This man scared Harry, and I conclude that he's the abuser.

Harry won't talk to me without this man's permission. We've met a couple of times in the coffee shop. I actually got a job there to save up some money for an apartment or house. Harry always sits by the door with his abuser. He's terrified whenever he comes up to the counter and asks for two drinks.

Today is no different. Harry comes up to the counter. The bandage is still on his face, and there looks to be a new scar on his collarbone. I can see it through his shirt. "The usual order?" I ask Harry, who nods and clears his throat. 

I write it down on my notepad and give it to a cook. Harry sits back down again, and the abuser glares daggers at me. I send him a cold look. This man doesn't scare me. He doesn't scare me at all.

"Yeah, I'm still not telling you," says Steve as we eat dinner at his house. I roll my eyes. "Cuz, I'm serious," says Steve sternly. "Harry trusts me to not tell anyone this," he continues. "Hell, he'd kill me for telling you that he's being abused and was raped."

"I know about privacy, and I understand that," I say. "But who is that guy I see Harry with?" I ask. Steve raises one eyebrow in suspicion. "I won't kill him, I just wanna know," I add hurriedly. Steve sighs and clears his throat.

"The man's name is Noah Carter. He and Harry have been dating ever since they were teenagers. At 21 years old, Noah began to abuse Harry after Harry got his ID to drink alcohol," says Steve. I listen, my anger growing by the second. "This has been going on for four years now," admits Steve. "There's nothing anyone can do to stop it because hardly anyone knows." He mutters, "Harry thinks that Noah'll change, but he won't. It's sad that he believes that."

I research everything I can about abuse cases. Sometime useful I've found is learned helplessness. It's a "condition in which a person suffers from a sense of powerlessness, arising from a traumatic event or persistent failure to succeed." The definition is from the Internet. In summary, it's where someone thinks that there's nothing they can do to change their situation.

Therefore Harry believes that Noah Carter is the only one who can care for him. I know that abuse victims tend to believe their abusers. I've also noticed that Harry hesitates in kissing Noah if that man kisses him. If Noah raped Harry, he used that fact against him. I can't do anything without risking anything, but I have to think of something to help Harry.

I hope you all enjoyed chapter four. If you have any questions, ask me in the comments, on my message board, or over PMs. I found it hard to write Reginald's perspective. Why? I'll tell you in the comments.