Kings of Hawkings [bxb]

Chapter 20

Jonas and Hugh sat side by side on the couches in their dorm. Their shoulders slumped against each other, their hands occasionally brushing. This had become the theme of the last couple of weeks—subtle touches, hands brushing, and lingering gazes.

They had planned to go out and celebrate Friday with something fun, but the Kings had called a meeting and sent Travis and Jaiden to the mall to clear the dorm.

Rodgers paced the room with an almost frenetic energy, his hands wringing together as if trying to squeeze out his anxiety. "We've got disturbing news," he said, his voice tight with tension. "St. Vincent's students are growing increasingly restless and aggressive. They're making threats, spreading the word that they're 'looking for prey.' It's not just talk—they're prowling, searching, and intimidating other schools."

As Rodgers laid out the grim details, Jonas, who had been sprawled out casually, suddenly straightened up, his entire demeanor shifting from relaxed to tense. A shiver ran through him, and Hugh's hand instinctively moved to his arm, his gaze sharp with concern.

"What's wrong, Jo?" Hugh asked softly, sensing the palpable change in Jonas' demeanor.

"Prey?" Jonas asked quietly, ignoring Hugh's question.

Rodgers nodded grimly. "That's the last I've heard. They're shadowing students from other schools, mapping out their schedules. Many say their flashy cars have been cruising around town, scoping out potential locations."

Hugh exhaled sharply, his frustration evident. "So it's that time again."

Millan's voice was a low, menacing growl. "Those bastards."

Sam's face tightened with worry. "We got lucky last year, but they're relentless. They don't forget. How long before our luck runs out?" He rubbed his eyes wearily. "I hate how unpredictable these nights are. We're always scrambling, never ready."

Jonas shivered uncontrollably, his face pale as he processed the gravity of the situation. "Those motherfuckers promised," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper but laden with rage. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "The Hunt was supposed to be over. They called it off indefinitely."

Rodgers froze. "Hunt? Is that what they call it?"

Jonas nodded absently as he pulled out his phone. His hands shaking slightly as he navigated to an old online forum he hadn't touched in ages—an exclusive chat for St. Vincent's Elites. He silently prayed they hadn't kicked him out.

A moment later, he was validated, and the screen exploded with the garish avatars and pompous usernames of the Elites. The sight of those familiar names made his blood boil. The arrogance of these privileged assholes, casually plotting a night of terror while living their cushy lives, was infuriating. Jonas' jaw tightened as he stared at the screen, the reality of their cruelty sinking in.

"How do they even get away with it?" Sam asked, unaware of what Jonas was looking at.

"Money," Hugh hissed.

"The police commissioner's son attends St. Vincent's. So does the Mayor's," Jonas responded as he was scrolling through the forum. "Half of the regional school board have kids attending that place."

Jonas ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

The "Hunt" was a barbaric game. The Elites of St. Vincent's would abduct a student from another school, their "Prey," and transport them to a hidden location. Then, they'd challenge the victim's school to find them before sunrise.

But this wasn't a mere game of hide and seek. Those sent to search for the Prey were brutally assaulted by St. Vincent's students, who seemed to relish their cruel role. Many victims ended up in the hospital, their bodies and spirits shattered by St. Vincent's mercilessness.