Never Let You Go

Tyler Seguin walked down the alleyway, with three of his closest friends. Sure they were rivals on the ice, but off the ice, they got to hang out and enjoy one another’s company. Patrice Bergeron, Jonathan Toews, and Patrick Kane had joined him for an evening walk through the streets of Downtown Boston.

After spending most of his time, split between his parents and Brad Marchand, it was nice to hang out with his second favorite Bruin and Chicago’s Dynamic Duo.

“So, how are you and Marchy?” Patrick asked.

“We’re fine. He’s been a little insufferable lately, but I know that he just misses his buddy!” Tyler sighed and looked down at his feet.

Patrice looked over at him and rubbed his shoulder in comfort. “Marchy’s like that. Just ignore him. He can be a little clingy sometimes. But you can’t take him to Dallas with you and he can’t hold you here in Boston!”

Jonathan nodded his head in agreement. “I remember when I met him a long time ago. He has a great personality, but he can go over-the-top at times!”

“That sounds like our Marchy!” Patrice and Tyler laughed in unison.

Patrick suddenly halted in place. His head snapped to the side. “Did anyone else hear that?” He glanced around.

Patrice, Jonathan and Tyler halted some twenty steps, ahead. They spun around to the curious Blackhawk.

A chilling New England breeze blew at them. There was a faint rustling sound in the bushes that lined the left side of the sidewalk. They were a few feet from the entrance to a park. At first they figured the breeze made the rustling sound, however when it continued after the wind died down and became still, Patrice put a finger to his lips and made a “shhh” noise.

Patrick’s face contorted into an upset, worried expression, similar to when USA had lost in the Olympics. He crept quickly back to the group, but only made it halfway.

A flash of black leapt out from the bushes and tackled him. Patrick was pinned to the ground. He squirmed underneath the attacker. “Hey, what the----get off of me! I’m Patrick----!” A gloved hand shot upward and clamped over his mouth, muffling the rest.

The others were also struggling with other shadowy figures.

A female with long, luscious chocolate hair had an arm around Tyler’s neck and a hand over his mouth.

Another female with curly crimson locks had Patrice’s arm pinned behind his back, uncomfortably. Her blue eyes pierced into Patrice’s, keeping him silent. The Bruin stared at her in shock and horror.

And another female with curly amber locks had kicked Jonathan in the shin, causing him to scream into the gloved hand that covered his mouth. She had her other arm wrapped strongly around Jonathan’s, pinning them to his sides. He jerked about, helplessly.

Patrick turned back to his attacker. He gazed into the aqua depths of her brilliant eyes. He glimpsed the golden brown locks of hair that cascaded down her shoulders. If she wasn’t attacking and hurting him, Patrick would find her more attractive and ask her out. But instead, he found himself slowly losing consciousness.

The female had given up on giving Patrice her death stare and instead had slapped her hand over Patrice’s mouth. A cloth was visible in her hand and Patrice instantly moaned and closed his eyes, going limp.

Jonathan and Tyler had fallen limp too. A cloth was being held in each of their attacker’s hands as well.

And Patrick wasn’t sure why, but he felt sleepy. Suddenly his eyes fluttered shut and he fell limp under the strong female. Just before he blacked out, he placed the distinct feeling of a rough and hoarse material brushing against his lips. It was drenched some kind of foul, but sweet smelling liquid.

But it was too late, as the foursome of females dragged off the male hockey players, hauling them across the street and into an old building.