Bittersweet Agony (Sinners High #3) Read Online Melody Adams

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sinners High Series by Melody Adams

Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)

They are rich, privileged, vicious, unscrupulous and they are the undisputed rulers of Sinners High – They are the KINGS.
K for Kent
I for Ian
N for Nate
G for Gregory
S for Seth

Everyone thinks I am the more approachable, calmer one of the KINGS. Nobody knows what lies under the surface. The dark side I hide from everyone. The addiction to pain and adrenaline.
The girls I use bore me. They are just an image for me. But then I meet Nikita at an illegal car race. She is an adrenaline junkie like me. Together we explore the dark sides of life. Pain. Thrill. But how often can you play with death until you lose?
Ian is the first guy who seems to understand me. Who is not deterred by my dark side. On the contrary. He shares my darkness. For a while we seem to be immortal. Until that fateful night.

Trigger warning
This book is a Dark High School Romance and covers dark topics like rape, abuse, dangerous behavior and explicit scenes.


Chapter 1


Fuck this shit! I’ve had it with this fucking asshole. Dad and I had never seen eye to eye, but lately, things escalated to an unbearable level. I was counting the days until I turned eighteen. If not for the promise I made to my mother before her death, I would have been outta here long time. But I’d promised her to try to get along with my father. I will never understand why she had loved that asshole so much. He was a grumpy bastard on his best days, but when he was in a mood, then he turned into a bloody monster. On top of being an abusive cunt, he was also a narcissist to the core. There was only ever one side to his story. His. Other people’s opinion or feelings didn’t exist for him. He was always right. What he wanted was what was going to happen. I tried to stay out of his way as best as I could, but still there wasn’t a day where we didn’t clash. Whenever I was home, I was walking on fucking eggshells. I hated my life. The only good thing I had going, were the KINGS and my beloved BMW 507. I started racing recently. The thrill of the illegal, the danger and the speed let me forget my life at home for a while. I hadn’t told any of my boys about my illegal activities. They would try to talk me out if it. Not because of it being illegal, but because of the danger. I knew I risked my neck every time I got behind the wheel, but that was part of the fun. I wasn’t in it for the money. Money had never been my problem. No, I purely did it for the adventure. But still, I craved more. More danger. More thrill. Even pain. I was seriously fucked up. I was aware. So far, I was able to hide my dark side from everybody, including my closest friends. Everybody thought I was this calm and friendly dude. They couldn’t be more wrong.

I started my car and revved the engine. After a few calming breaths, I drove down the gravel driveway and headed toward the field, where tonight’s race would take place. Adrenaline pumped through my system, and I let out a yell.

Iron Maiden blasted out of the speakers at full volume. The anger and frustration that had eaten me back home fell away and made place for the pleasure I felt when heading into danger. The field was already busy with drivers and onlookers. I parked my BMW and got out of the car. My gaze scanned the crowd. There were many faces I knew from previous races, but also a lot of new ones. I spotted Oscar, the one who organized the races and the betting. He was taking some entry fees from tonight’s drivers when he looked up and spotted me. A calculating glimmer danced in his steel-gray eyes. I was one of the drivers who guaranteed high stakes whenever I raced. Although most drivers here were adrenaline junkies like me, few were as crazy as I.

“Ian, my man,” Oscar greeted. “Thought you wouldn’t turn up tonight.”

“Well, I am here now,” I answered, pulling a stack of bills out of my Jeans, handing them over.

“This is going to be an exciting race,” he explained. “Got a bunch of new drivers. Even a girl. Can you believe that?”

“A girl?”

“Yeah, cute little blond. Would be a shame if something happened to her beautiful face. But who am I to discriminate the females, eh? And she paid her fees square and fair. Drives a little Honda, but that thing has some fine tuning under the hood. Girl fixed it herself, so she says.”

“My kinda girl,” a voice sounded from my left.