Noah brought Taylor and Dylan upstairs, leaving Gabe and me downstairs. I opened my eyes after a while to see Gabe was still kneeling on the concrete floor. Large welts criss crossed his back and blood was trickling down his skin. He looked over his shoulder to see me staring. His eyes were red and his cheeks were wet with tears. He crawled over to the mattress and cupped my face in his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut and a few more tears escaped.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice wobbly as he tried to control his tears. "I wanted to protect you."

The fiery pain across my stomach had turned into a sharp sting. My abdomen was sticky with blood.

"Untie the ropes," I said. My voice was raw.

Gabe nodded and wiped away his tears. His fingers fiddled with the rope until he undid the knot. I rubbed the sore flesh on my wrists. I pushed myself to a sitting position. I gritted my teeth as my movements intensified the pain. Gabe reached forward and wrapped his arms around me. I was unsure of where to put my hands because of his injured back. My blood was coating his stomach.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.

"You too," I said.

Gabe brushed a tear-drenched piece of hair off of my face and behind my ear. His lips lifted into a soft smile.

"I'll be okay," he said.

Gabe winced in pain and was shaky as he got up onto his feet. He reached down and helped me stand. We were slow as we walked out of the basement. Gabe's shirt stayed crumpled on the floor.

Jenny was not in the kitchen when we came up the stairs. I could hear her humming to herself in the living room. Gabe kept a tight hold on me as we walked up to the bathroom.

"Sit on the tub and take off your shirt," he said.

I nodded and followed his orders. I dropped my blood-soaked shirt into the tub. Gabe pulled out a bottle and a stack of old towels. He sat next to me. Without saying a word, he turned on the tap and wet one of the towels. I hissed in pain as he cleaned my wounds. I looked down at myself.

Wilcox.

It was clear and forever marked on my body. Noah never wanted me to forget.

I was surprised when Gabe refused to do it. He had no problem with cutting me, even though those were far less severe punishments. He really did not want to see me hurt. He disagreed with his father and protected me, even though that got him punished. He must have known that was going to happen. He risked it for me.

I put my hand on Gabe's shoulder. He looked up from cleaning my wounds. I smiled.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?" he asked.

"For trying to keep me safe."

"I would die to keep you safe. I never want to see you hurt."

My smile wavered. I knew that my next question would be risky, but I had to ask.

"Can we go to the graveyard?" I asked.

Gabe let out a deep breath. He grabbed another towel and pressed it against my stomach.

"We can go tonight," he said. "If you are feeling up to it."

"I will," I said.

Gabe taped a bandage to my stomach. When he was finished, he kissed the side of my temple. We sat in silence for a moment.

"I need to clean your back," I said.

"I can do it," he said.

"It's your back," I said. "How are you going to reach it?"

He let out a chuckle.

"I guess you are right," he said.

Gabe turned so that his back was to me. I cleaned the blood off of his skin. I disinfected the welts and he cried out in pain. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the side of the tub.

Once our wounds were cleaned, we walked hand-in-hand to the bedroom. I lied on the bed. Gabe laid down on his stomach next to me and buried his face in the pillow.

I stared at the ceiling. My mind was overcome by emotion because of what had just happened and I burst out into sobs. Gabe lifted his head off of the pillow.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I hesitated. My body could not handle another potential punishment.

"Lindsay, I won't punish you for whatever you say," he said.

It was like he could read my mind.

"I was thinking about our daughter," I said.

"Linds-" he started.

"I know," I cut him off. "I shouldn't be, but I can't help myself. I was thinking of names last night."

Gabe was silent for a moment.

"What would you want to name her?" he asked.

"Bonnie," I said.

It was my birth mother's name. I had not thought about her often throughout my pregnancy and it made me feel guilty. My birth mother was the one who taught me how to swaddle my baby dolls. She was the one who told me when I was a child about how excited she would be to hold her grandchild.

"Bonnie," Gabe said. "I like it."

"You do?" I asked.

"Yes, of course."

I reached out and ran my fingers through Gabe's hair. It was wet from sweat, but I did not let that bother me. This was the man that was going to take care of me. He has shown that to me in so many different ways now. If it were up to him, Wilcox would not be scarring my stomach.

"I love you," I said.

Gabe smiled and shuffled across the bed so that he could drape his arm across my chest. He was careful not to touch my stomach. He kissed my shoulder. I leaned my head down so that it was resting against his.

"I love you so much," he said. "I am sure our next baby is going to be a boy."

"I really hope so," I said.