"Eggs aren't supposed to be this greasy. Dammit, didn't anyone ever teach you to cook? I can't eat this crap!"

Abby turned towards his voice just in time to see the uneaten plate of eggs come flying at her. She ducked and saw an angry Bryce scrounging through the fridge for something else.

She picked up the discarded food from the floor along with the pieces of glass that were once part of a dish set given to her by her now-deceased grandmother. A mental note to buy paper plates skirted through her mind as she watched Bryce, the man who claimed to love her, chewing on some leftover takeout. She hissed in pain as a shard of glass pricked her hand, a tiny drop of blood escaping.

"Don't look at me like that," Bryce growled. "It's your fault. You know how I get when I'm hungry. Next time you should cook something I can actually eat."

A splinter of glass embedded itself in Abby's finger. She watched a thick drop of blood ooze out of her broken skin.

"Are you bleeding?" a now worried Bryce asked, coming towards her. "I'm sorry, babe. This is my fault. You know I never want to see you hurt, right? You're the most important thing in the world to me."

The most important thing? Abby bit back her remark about being a person, not a thing. She didn't want to start another argument so early in the morning.

Abby felt his strong arms envelop her as he walked her towards the kitchen sink. Cool water ran over her finger as his lips pressed against her neck, a precursor to him marking her skin. "You need to take better care of yourself, babe."

It was always like this. A beating before the healing. A cut before the care. It was a merry-go-round of emotions that stopped being fun long ago. Now the ride made Abby queasy. It had to stop.

Abby groaned as memories of her and Bryce pressed against her mind. The last she remembered, she was being in the pink room.

"Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Abby slowly opened her eyes to see three fingers wiggling in front of her face.

"Where am I? What happened?" she asked, still not completely aware of her surroundings. The fingers were removed and she felt something damp on her forehead. It was a compress. She slowly sat up and found herself staring into the very irritated eyes of her employer, Alex Carter.

"Mr. Carter?"

He let his hand fall to his side. "Well, you know who I am so I guess having you count fingers is unnecessary."

"What...what are you doing here?" Abby asked. Remembering he owned the cabin she corrected herself. "Sorry. I meant what are you doing here a day early? I thought you'd be coming later and--"

"I changed my mind," he said, cutting her off. "I didn't expect to find you unconscious outside. Are you sure you're okay?"

Unconscious? The image of the creepy rag doll popped in her head followed by her going outside to the shed. Wally had warned her to be careful. She should've listened.

"I must've bumped my head. Did you carry me inside?" Abby asked, feeling mortified. "I'm so sorry."

Alex Carter simply leaned back, those light blue eyes assessing her as if he wasn't sure he could believe she truly was alright. "I didn't mean to startle you back there. I can't believe you managed to knock yourself out. If this is some ploy on your part to get me to feel sorry for you, it won't work."

Abby wasn't sure if he was joking or not. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry about what happened outside. It was my fault."

She looked up to see Alex silently studying her, two fingers tapping his chin in thought. "Is this a habit of yours, I wonder?"

"A habit?" Abby asked, not quite understanding. Did he mean her clumsiness? "I'm sorry. I'll try to be more careful in the future." It's not like it was her fault he scared her and something hit her head.

A corner of his mouth tugged up in derision. "I'd appreciate that but I meant you apologizing. It's a bit infuriating. You're making me feel as though I'm some sort of bully."

"Sorry, I--"

"Forget it. I already know what you're going to say. You're sorry, right?" Alex walked away with a wave of his hand as if he were dismissing her from his thoughts.

Abby felt her wrist for her blessings bracelet.

I am patient.

"Mr. Carter, since you've arrived early, did you want me to leave first thing in the morning?" Abby asked. A part of her wondered if he'd demand she leave that night.

"Leave?" Alex parroted.

"Y-yes. Felicia said I should report back to the office once you arrived."

"Do you work for me or Felicia?"

"You," Abby answered with trepidation.

"Right. You're my assistant and I need you to assist me while I'm here."

"Oh." Abby frowned. "I'm sorry. I thought you were here for pleasure."

"Would that make a difference?"

Abby watched him walk to the kitchen. He turned to her. "Are you going to make dinner? I'm famished."

First I'm his maid and now he wants me to be his chef? Personal assistants sure do have a lot of duties.

He smirked. Clearly, her look of shock was amusing to him. "Ms. Redding, you do realize that as my assistant, you'll have various tasks that see to my comfort? Your job is to assist me with my daily needs. Felicia is assigned to the office as my secretary but your tasks won't always deal with work-related matters."

"Then why did you have Wally organize the furniture?" Abby blurted. She slapped her hands over her mouth. What if she upset him by questioning him?

"I assigned that job to him before I hired you. I didn't see any reason to have you deal with it if he was already going to take care of it. The folks here in Bayless are pretty friendly. I'm sure you learned that while you were here. How else would this cabin look so clean in such a short amount of time?"

So he knew Maria and her friends had helped her? Did he know about the murders? About Crystal?

"Yes, sir. By the way, did you know this cabin is somewhat infamous?" Abby stood up on wobbly legs, ensuring her equilibrium was centered.

"I see you've been listening to the local gossip," Alex noted as he sat at the kitchen table. "I heard and it doesn't matter to me. I'm here to relax. This cabin has a history but that doesn't concern me. List people, most places have a little history, wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose so." Abby nodded. It was obvious he didn't want to talk about Crystal Caldwell. "I'm sorry, Mr. Carter. I understand if you don't want to talk about it."

She heard him mutter something about women who constantly apologized before he turned to her and said, "You'll be running errands for me and seeing to my meals while I'm here. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Abby watched him pick up his luggage and walk upstairs. She wondered which room she would be sleeping in. The pink room? That must've been Crystal's room. She shuddered and lifted her hand to the bump on her head. What if she had a concussion? No, she knew what a concussion felt like. She'd be fine.

Later that night, Abby found herself staring at the new bed that was in the pink room. She tapped her bracelet.

I'm brave. I'm brave. I'm brave.

It had been an eventful day. She had helped Wally with the furniture and then she had fallen and knocked herself out. She remembered the dream she had about Bryce right before she woke up. Was it a dream or a memory? She decided not to think about it too much before drifting off into a fitful slumber.

An hour later, Abby felt something wet against her neck. She tried to move her body away but couldn't. Something heavy was pushing her down. She gave a slight groan as the light pressure against her neck felt like something was gnawing at her. Sucking. She tried willing her eyes to open but couldn't. Strong hands were pressing into her skin.

Open your eyes, Abby! Open your eyes!

Her neck felt like it was on fire. Another groan escaped her now open mouth and she felt her arms being pinned above her. She forced her eyes open to see a man above her. She screeched and quickly sat up, her heart racing, gasping for air.

"What's going on in here?" Alex came running into her room wearing a black tank and dark silk pajama pants.

Abby looked around the empty room while she caught her breath, "I'm so sorry. It...it was a nightmare?"

"Are you asking me that?" Alex asked.

"I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You screamed because of a nightmare?" Alex asked. Abby noticed he was tapping his chin again. Finally, he nodded. "I understand you have a difficult history but being my assistant means I need someone who I can rely on. Someone who won't wake me up in the middle of the night. I'll let it slide tonight since you hit your head earlier. Don't wake me again."

Abby's fists tightened around the blanket that covered her. Her voice was gravelly as she answered, "Yes, sir."

Alex shot her one last annoyed look before leaving her alone. Slowly, Abby switched on the light and padded to the mirror in the corner of the room.

No one had been there. It had to have been a dream. A very bad dream.

Abby stretched her head to one side and gasped. On her neck, at the exact same spot she felt someone gnawing at her in her dream...was a sight she was all too familiar with. Her skin was discolored with the beginning of a buise.