Kiff X Barry Novels & Stories

They were all the same—jerks. She scoffed and shrugged indifferently. "Isn't it a bit late to ask? You’re already sitting," Kia snapped, downing the fresh glass of alcohol placed before her. The man chuckled lightly. "True," he replied, his eyes on the beautiful woman in the white dress, who had been drinking alone and had caught his attention. "By the way, I'm Bara," he introduced himself, offering his hand to Kia. "Maemunah," Kia replied nonchalantly, ignoring Bara's extended hand.

Jasper says and the whole damn paparazzi still has the guts to take pictures of his heartbroken face. “And finally, Barbara’s confessions. This is actually getting interesting. She killed Kate, the late Mrs. Brookes, and she killed her own husband Robert Brookes,” This earns the most shocking gasps from the crowd, even Alisha is staring at Barbara like she has just seen a ghost. “You don’t have any fucking proof!” Barbara yells from the crowd, walking towards the stage with those very high heels.

The place smelled of blood and fear, sweat, and the stench of burned flesh. Barry lay in a blood-splattered coffin, his body a thousand cuts and raw, charred flesh. His eyes found Kendalf immediately, became anxious and desperate. Kendalf tried to reach him on the common path of their kind, but Barry’s mind was frozen; it was impossible for him to move or communicate. But for the desperation in his eyes, Kendalf would have dismissed the cellar as harmless to any of their kind.

"Yes, Don Krauser? Do you have something for me to do?" asked Barry, surprised Don Krauser would call him directly and personally. "Well, not exactly, Barry." replied Don Krauser. "In fact, it's more like I have something that you should know about. Where are you now?" Barry was surprised when he heard Don Krauser's reply. "I'm having lunch at Nikoffee. It must be crucial information, considering you are calling me. What is it?"

Chest heaving and mockery filled. He stared at me, shocked. "What the fuck is funny?" I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. "You. The big, bad Lombardi. You're afraid of antiseptic?" He glared. "I'm not afraid. It stings like a bitch." "Exactly." I smiled. "You're afraid." "I've been stabbed." "And you cried then too?" He scowled obviouslytriggered. "You're lucky you're helpful." "Mm-hmm."

Awkwardly, I scared a look at Jason, but when our eyes met, I instantly turned away. “Yellow!” a few voices said together when Billy picked the rose for Chloe and the person on her left - Peter. The sweet couple gazed lovingly at each other. Then she leaned to him and slowly kissed him on the neck. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. I swallowed and bit my lip in order to gather my thoughts. It was arousing and intimidating at the same time. Cheers followed from our group. To avoid any problems, Billy picked a white rose for Peter. The couple shared a confused look. Then Peter turned to the bartender, grabbed his hand, and swiftly placed a kiss on it.

Cam points at Barry while trying to push past me to get to him. “Is that true?” I turn to Barry, still struggling to keep Cam restrained behind me. Barry just shrugs. “I had to. I got sick of hearing everyone talk bad about Dari everywhere I went. And this spineless dickwad was never going to do anything about it–” “It was none of your fucking business!” Cam yells, cutting Barry off. I run my hand through my hair and take a deep breath to calm myself down. All my initial mental preparation slipping away from me slowly.

“Get out of my fucking town you filthy liar. You are twisting shit up to fit your agenda, and it’s not going to work. Leave. Don’t come back to this town again. There is nothing for you here.” “There is nothing for anybody here. There’s not even a Starbucks,” the fucker waves his hand in the direction of the coffee shop. “Just go,” Missy pleads quietly, her eyes remaining downcast like she feels defeated in all this. Barry stares at her for a few more seconds, a small smile lingering on the sick fuck’s lips, then he coughs and looks away. “I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, Miss. Even if we are no longer together, I still miss our friendship. I don’t want you to ever feel alone.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind her, the sound of it making Barbie burst out in uncontrollable laughter. Kenneth appeared from God-knows-where, arms folded, lips twitching in amusement. “She didn’t last ten minutes,” he remarked. “She’s weak,” Barbie replied, still laughing. “So are most people,” Kenneth said, his gaze glinting with something darker. “But you, Barbara… you’re special.” The laughter drained from her throat.