Boys of the Dark | ✓ (2015)

26. The Boy with the Last Words

She found him standing in front of her trailer. She wanted to do one final sweep around the place in case she needed anything. Sadly, he trailer was parked behind the outdoor stage so hopefully, she wouldn't want to bump into him.

But clearly life had some serious hate on Delilah.

Because there he was.

Standing outside her door before another big show.

She quickly walked into her trailer, not wanting the rest of the public to see this mess unfold. 

The door shut behind them both.

"Delilah!" Ryland grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. "Where have you been?!" he asked.

Her hair slapped against her cheeks. He cupped her cheek, skin cold as the dead and searched her empty eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked her again.

"Yes," she croaked.

"Don't lie to me!" His voice heightened, his other hand gripping her shoulder.

"Yes!" she screamed in his face. She shook off his hand. "What do you want Ryland?"

Hurt flashed across his face before it was buried by that familiar darkness she once knew. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Then talk," she snapped, barely letting him finish the sentence.

Her breath shook, hands trembling as she shoved them in her cardigan pockets to hide this unstable state. She didn't tell him about the baby. There was no point to telling him anything. The damage has already been done.

Where he was the night she needed him... who knows.

Ryland didn't notice her anxiety, too engrossed by the tightness of her face. "I want to tell you something."

"Fucking say it then!"

He sucked in sharp breath, rocking on the balls of his feet. Then he stopped and dropped his hands. "I haven't been honest with you."

Her silence led him to continue.

"You're familiar with how I record different sounds. At first, I never recorded them for the band. I recorded it for me. I was never exposed to these things. So I wanted to keep them—take a piece of them away and keep them for my memory in case everything went downhill. These sounds—it reminded me how real this was—how everything was here. Here—it's much more authentic and real and different."

"Why do you keep saying 'here'?" She crossed her arms even tighter across her chest as if that could protect her heart.

Ryland took a step towards her but she took another step back. "Delilah, I never had that memory loss condition. I know who you are. I always knew. I'm angel. You're the Devil."

She took more steps back, but Ryland kept persisting forward. His voice grew louder. "You weren't supposed to come here. On Earth. This was my escape from it all—the universe, the spiritual world and all that fucked up shit. It's much simpler here!" he exclaimed.

"This whole time you told me you built relationships off of trust," she said in a whisper. She stopped moving backwards and stood her ground.

"Delilah—"

"Why the fuck would you make a sick lie about that?!"

He clenched his fists and screamed. "Because I didn't want you! The more we were together, the more fucked up our world became! Don't you understand?! I needed to get away. Hell wasn't an option and there was no fucking way I was going back to those angels. Earth was my only choice!"