This is a work of fiction, using characters from the film, “Proof of Life”.  No insult or invasion of privacy or infringement of copyright is intended. The story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains adult language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to the reader by this language and these situations.

Shit Happens

by Riley

They’d just settled him in a room. A sweet young nurse tucked sheets around his hips, loosening them carefully where the fresh cast encased his left leg from foot to just above the knee. She gently changed the bloody bandage over his eye then smiled. His face was bruised and swollen, but no matter, Terry had no smile to give her.

As she left, Dino swept in. A ballet of sorts ensued, and he swirled around her, then dropped into a chair and grunted at his partner. “Hombre del mundo, you’re one muy fucking lucky hombre. You fucking managed to not get yourself dead,” he nodded toward the empty door way. “And that is a very pretty lady.”

Terry sighed, enduring aching ribs, staring up at the hospital white ceiling. His cluttered mind tried to take in everything that had happened to him in less than twenty four hours, to put it into some rational words . . . before Dino would ask. And, Dino would ask. Just how the fuck was he going to explain this?

“Well, you don’t look so bad. Better than the fuckin’ rented Mercedes.” Dino dragged the chair close. “How ya feeling?”

Terry turned a battered glare. “Like I need a fuckin’ cigarette.”

“Well . . . tough, mi amigo. This whole building is a no smoking sign . . .”

“Just get me someplace where I can smoke, mate.” Terry spoke softly, but it was like a fist to the gut. “Now.”

Dino bit his lip. Terry wasn’t kidding. He left, returning with a wheelchair and a large male nurse in tow. “Not nearly as attractive, but for fifty bucks, he’ll do the job,” he joked.

Together the nurse and Dino carefully helped a groaning Terry into the chair. The nurse wheeled Terry down the hall and grumbled irritation under his breath. Then he opened a heavy door leading out onto a flat empty rooftop. “We smoke out here, but the door locks, so . . .”  He kicked a brick in place and propped it open.

“Thanks, man,” Dino said, but the nurse was gone.

He rubbed his temples, not wanting Terry to see his concern, pushed the wheelchair toward the low wall at the edge of the roof and locked the wheels securely. He leaned over the edge, watching people trail in and out of the emergency entrance below. “So, you gonna tell me what the fuck happened?” Turning to his best friend and partner, he did his best to appear tough. Thorne had spent the majority of his life in danger. It was extremely unsettling to think the man could have lost his life in a simple car wreck. But more was wrecked than a car and Dino was determined to get to the bottom of it. He lowered himself to the ground and sat, looking up at Terry. “Who was she?” He lit a cigarette and handed it to Terry who drew in the tobacco, letting it out smoothly.

Terry looked up and squinted at the sunlight. How long had he been in the emergency room? What time was it? He sighed. None of that mattered. And delaying this would only make it tougher. He sighed again with a painful moan. “Her name was Kit. Kit Cable,” and he fell silent.

“Where’d you meet Miss Kit Cable?”

Terry finally looked into Dino’s eyes and huffed a grunt. “At a concert.”

“Fucking liar. Unless it was Vivaldi, you were not at a concert, man.”

“Rusted Root. Rock and roll, mate.”

Dino blinked.

“Some free concert in a park in Berkeley. I heard the music, so I figured I’d take a tic, see what it was about.” Terry flicked the cigarette, watching the ash slowly drop to the ground. “That’s where I saw her.”

~*~

Having taken the bet, sure Dino was overestimating a quick acceptance of the contract they were proposing, Terry had neglected to book his flight to London. It was an important, extremely profitable negotiation that required both principals and several complex policies to assure safe international travel for the staff and students of sixteen California universities. And damned if Dino wasn’t right . . . as was evidenced by the fact that Dino was in First Class heading to New York, and Terry was aimlessly driving the streets of San Francisco. Timing dictated another day in the States before he’d be able to board a flight home to London.

Terry drove easily, the weather beautiful, a pleasant breeze off the bay blowing his hair. Reaching an intersection, he propped an elbow on the door and glanced out the open window, then shrugged and turned left. The city was delightful. He twisted tight curves and climbed steep hills lined with refurbished Victorian houses and fantastic views of the Golden Gate Bridge. When he noticed a recognizable sign, he followed it towards Berkeley, comfortable with the roads around the university he’d spent the past week working near.

It was Saturday afternoon, just past three when he was suddenly sitting still in traffic near the administration building. Determining that frustration was a worthless emotion under the circumstances, Terry relaxed and watched a cop direct the slow traffic ahead onto a street that encircled a park. He followed the cars ahead. The strong, amplified thud of drums pulsing with the energy of tribal beats reached him on the breeze. He stretched his neck to see. A huge banner welcomed Rusted Root to the University of California. Slowly he drove past the crowd that milled around the area as the band’s sound became louder, more inviting and much more interesting than he expected. Just ahead, a vehicle pulled out and Terry took the open space. He climbed out and leaned comfortably back onto the boot to watch and listen for a bit.

He couldn’t see the performers beyond the bouncing, dancing crowd, but found the spectators just as fascinating to watch. Apparently, Rusted Root attracted a following of hippy wannabes. He smiled, wondering if The Grateful Dead knew about this. Love beads and bell bottoms abounded. He perused the crowd nearby while a melodious voice bellowed words Terry couldn’t decipher if his life depended on it.

That’s when he saw her. A woman with long, wavy hair the color of wheat, wild with feathers and flowers, climbed to the hood then the roof of the car directly across from him. She danced to the beat and swirled like a music video performer. He couldn’t have guessed at her age, she might have been anywhere between eighteen and thirty. She was striking in every way; her movements sultry and inviting, her body, lithe and supple. Her smile, extraordinary. He watched, enthralled, surprised at his inability to look away.

The music changed, slowed, and a deep resonant female voice sang soulfully soft.

                        Lick from the wounds,

                        Lick from the wounds,

                        Lick from the wounds of your fears.

The beautiful dancer moved slowly, rolling her hips, lifting her arms, waving her hands in the air and mouthing the words perfectly. Spinning slowly on her Chevrolet perch, her gauzy tie-dyed short dress blew in the breeze, lifting for a view of panties beneath and Terry was completely taken. Nearly breathless. The music shifted abruptly, the drums thudded and singers bellowed. The dancer turned directly to Terry and smiled right at him.

                        All I want is food

                        All I want is food

                        All I want is food and creative love.

Her hands waved high then slowly one arm lowered, her eyes holding his in a passionate lock. Then her finger aimed directly at Terry and she pointed.

He blinked and stood straight. She climbed down from the car with the help of several nearby admiring onlookers. A man or two even glared jealously at Terry as she crossed the street, moving with rhythm and perfect grace right toward him. She walked up to his car, smiled radiantly, winked and simply climbed in.

Fuck me! Terry thought, then slid behind the wheel and looked at her. Her head still rocked to the beat of Rusted Root, her hair flowing in the breeze crossing through the open windows.

He cleared his throat smoothly. “Where to?”

She turned and grinned wickedly. “Someplace with a bed, handsome. I’m going to fuck your brains out.”

“Fuck me, indeed!” He started the engine and pulled out.

~*~

Terry was watching the tip of his cigarette, turning it slowly in his bruised and broken fingers. “I dunno how to explain her, Dino.” He looked up at his friend, his head shaking slowly and he sighed. “She was the most fucking exciting thing I’ve ever seen in my life. A creature of sexual power and pleasure. Pure energy and . . .”

“And what?”

Terry reached for another cigarette, lit it from the first and dragged deeply. “Just amazing.”

~*~

He pulled into the private parking lot with a nod from the security guard. The university had kindly rented him the room for an additional day. Granted, the elderly professors sharing the conservative building with him would suffer a coronary if they saw him enter his suite with the beautiful, unconventional woman, but who gave a fuck, he’d be gone tomorrow. No harm done.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to see her pull her panties off, dropping them on the floor with her sandals. Then she simply reached over and undid his button and fly, then straddled him, rubbing her heat against his growing cock. She kissed his neck and he pushed her back.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“You an Aussie?”

“Ah huh. Your name?”

She smiled, her hips undulating, tantalizing against him. “Kit Cable. Yours?”

“Terry Thorne.” He held her hips still, desperate to slow things down. “You a student?”

She shook her head. Her brown eyes glittered when she smiled, thumping his heart into overdrive. He glanced around. Broad daylight. No one in sight.

“Are you a professor?”

“Nope.” She planted a soft kiss on his lips and he permitted it, but only for a moment, pushing her away again, holding her tight at arm’s length, her back against the steering wheel.

“Thought you wanted a bed, Kit Cable.”

“We have hours for a bed. Can’t wait.” Her hips swayed, rubbing wet and deep against his exposed raging cock.

If he held her shoulders he could keep her from kissing him. But if he held her hips, he could prevent a sure misfire. He went for her hips. “Hold on, lady.”

She stilled, held up her hands with mock disappointment and batted those amazing eyes. “Yes, sir, Mister Thorne.”

Wanting to be playful, he took her left hand in his. “You married?” He examined the unadorned ring finger for any sign of a recently removed wedding ring. Terry cared little if Kit was married; he only wanted the intimacy of touching her hand before his cock plunged into her steaming pussy.

“Who gives a fuck if I’m married or not? Just fuck me, Terry.”

His response time was indecipherable, his hands snapping to her hips, lifted her body then forcefully lowered it with precision onto his painful cock. She groaned quietly into his ear. “Yes, Terry. Fuck me. Like that.”

The car rocked and he pounded up into Kit as she lowered hard onto him. He dug his fingers into her tender ass and finally exploded deep and fully into the exciting woman on his heaving lap. “Fuck me!” he gasped.

“As many times as you like,” she cooed into his ear.  

They walked to his suite much like any normal, civilized couple and Terry wondered. Was Kit Cable a genius, getting the initial frenzy out of the way first? Or was she just a crazed lunatic who really was planning to fuck his brains out?

Inside the door she lifted her dress over her head and tossed it aside with her tiny purse, then searched for the bedroom. He followed her naked body, breathless and panting like a school boy. Inside she was checking the view from his window, peeking into the bathroom, looking in his closet. All the while he removed his clothes; he couldn’t take his eyes from her. Just the same as it was at the concert, she mesmerized him. He stood and waited until she stopped moving, stopped tossing her hair, stopped looking around. His heart thumped hard. Now her attention was on him. Fully.

She stepped into his arms and he lowered an embrace around her. She was a tiny woman. Perfectly proportioned, warm and rounded in all the right places. His hand crawled between them, grasping a full, heated breast. He sighed then plucked her hard nipple until she groaned. Terry suddenly wanted to kiss her. He cupped her face and lowered his mouth to hers, licking and tasting her lips, sucking them each in turn until she gasped and ran her hands around his neck. She squeezed and massaged the tight muscles there, bringing a relaxing grunt from him.

“Come with me.” She led him to the bed and dropped him there with a bounce on his belly. He chuckled and she straddled his narrow hips then ran her soft hands down his neck and over his shoulders, sending shivers and calling relaxation at once. She trailed down his back, then pulled his arms up over his head, holding them there, massaging his palms and knuckles into pliable putty.

That’s when he felt the leather loop and tighten around his wrists.  His own belt. She was quick and nimble, fastening it around the bed post. “What the fuck?” he spat and rolled over to see Kit smile, her eyes bright with an amused glint.

“Ah, don’t be a pansy, Aussie.” She nuzzled the tangled hair at his crotch. “You’ll get your turn.” She reached up and ran her fingernails softly from his shoulders to the inside of his knees and he shivered with the fever of pure desire.

“Oh yeah? You really so sure you wanna make that promise, love? Cause I can’t promise to be so kind to my captor. My job is -- ”

“I don’t want to know about your job, Terry.” She licked his nipple, taking it between her teeth and nipping deliciously. “And you don’t want to know anything about me.”

He raised his head to see her eyes; they were gazing up into his and his breath caught in his aching chest.

“All we have is a few hours. Let’s concentrate on what’s really important.” And with that, Kit sucked his solid cock deep into her throat.

~*~

Dino watched Terry intensely. Wondering at the private memories that shook the well-trained soldier to the core. “Amazing, in what way?” He asked after several silent moments.

Terry rolled his neck, leaned it back against the chair. He dragged in on the cigarette then rubbed his eyes hard before blowing out with a groan. He looked down at Dino.

“The woman was unpredictable. Dangerous and nurturing. She was sensual,” Terry said softly. “In ways you’d never expect.” He smiled at a memory, gazing into the setting sun.

“I woke once, tasting cigarettes and sleep in my mouth. Mate, I only wanted to taste her.”

Dino nodded. In another conversation, another time and situation, all hell would have broken loose and Dino would have had a field day with that.

“So, I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Fuck.” Terry rubbed his eyes again. Dino looked away, knowing there was a tear there, not wanting to let Terry know . . . he knew.

Terry cleared his throat. “She came up behind me, and just took the toothbrush out of my mouth. Put it into her own.”

~*~

Kit smiled and sucked lather from the bristles. “Yum, Terry.” She ran a finger over his lower lip then sucked that as well. “You are the most fucking delicious man I’ve ever known.”

The word intimacy thumped into his brain. He reached for her and she squealed, running from him and hopping on the bed. He gripped her raised hips tightly and forcefully pressed inside. Kit’s head dropped to the mattress and she cried out.

“You ok?” he asked, hoping he could continue, unsure if he could stop.

“Yes, Terry. More! Harder. I want to feel everything tonight.” She groaned beneath him, gasping at his power. “I want to feel everything tonight. Everything!” she shouted.

Terry pulled out and spit onto his fingers. He massaged her anus, pushing saliva inside with a thick finger. And then he spit again, wetting the tip of his huge cock as liberally as his desperate hurry would permit. He lifted her hips and pressed inside the woman, drawing cries and sobs. Kit begged for more. More Terry. Harder. Deeper. And he gave it to her.

When it was done, she was shaking and sobbing. His heart shuddered and he reached down, gathering her up into his arms. He sat on the bed, rocking and cradling her tenderly. His hand found her warm pussy, wet and hot. She was curled on his lap and he slid his fingers deep, running them along the power point, pressing a thumb lusciously against it.

For a long time he continued, watching her face, so close to his. He sucked her lips, pressed his tongue into her mouth. “More, Terry,” she whispered. “More. Please.”

He watched her face slowly tighten against the orgasm. She was fighting it and that tore at Terry’s heart. He slowly moved her off his lap. Rubbing constantly, moving fingers smoothly inside her with both hands.

“Come on, baby. Let it go. Come on, love,” he encouraged, but she shifted, moved almost out of his grip. Terry was baffled. She’d given him so much pleasure. At her touch he was butter, melting and spreading his seed into her mouth, between her breasts, into her ass and inside her inviting pussy. What was causing such careful control in a woman out of control?

Then he lightened his touch. Maybe he’d hurt her? Was she in pain? She grabbed his hand and pressed it harder. “Please help me, Terry. I need to feel this tonight. Please.”

Terry maneuvered himself carefully between her legs. Watching her every expression, again he resumed his steady slide. He took the hot button between his thumb and finger and pulled gently, rubbing up and down. Then he lowered his mouth to suck her heaving breast.  He trailed his wet mouth along her body and added his tongue to her pussy.

His hands were aching, but his heart was pounding. He looked up again at Kit. She rolled her head from side to side. “God, please!” she gasped.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispered, moving up and taking her mouth with his again. Her breath was heavy and he could feel the tight vibration around his deep fingers. “Come for me.”

Kit’s climax was bigger than any he’d ever seen. She cried out loud, her back arched high and she hovered there for an eternity, shaking and sobbing.

Terry too was shaking, having witnessed the opening of a completely fearless woman at his own hands.

~*~

Dino looked up at the star lit sky. Sighed heavily. Time to get down to it. Terry had to be getting tired, needing some pain meds. He knelt beside the silent man. “How long were you in that room?”

“At exactly midnight, Kit simply got dressed and said it was time to go. I figured she must have had friends to meet, maybe a ride home. Wherever that was.”

“Did anyone see you there together?”

Terry blinked. “The security guard. When we arrived, and when we left.” He lit another cigarette. “And the delivery man. We got hungry. Chinese. She’s a vegetarian.” Terry turned to Dino. “A fuckin’ vegetarian. What the hell did it matter what she ate?”

Again he stared out into nothing. His eyes were nearly swollen shut; the bandage over his eye was red with blood.

“What did it matter?” He drew in on the cigarette again.

~*~

They ate from each other. Using their bellies as plates, their fingers for tools, their tongues for everything. The flavor of sweet sticky sauce and soft bean sprouts lapped from her pussy. The texture of fried rice sucked from his navel. Terry would never again eat Chinese without remembering the sensations of Kit Cable.

~*~

Dino was alarmed. Terry had gone dangerously pale. Nurses had come to the door to check on their patient over the past few hours, but Dino waved them off. Determined to give the man an opportunity to get everything off his chest and hopefully lighten his heart.

He sat beside Terry, facing the same direction, acting as confessor. “Tell me exactly how this happened. Exactly how it went down.”

Terry knew the question was coming. He straightened in the wheelchair and made his report.

“We were in the car.”

~*~

“So, where to?” He smiled over at her, pulling smoothly out of the parking lot and turning on to the quiet street.

“Just take me back where you found me, Aussie. Then we’ll have ourselves a nice civil kiss goodbye and be on our separate ways.”

That didn’t sit right. “No, baby. We fuckin’ shared a bit too much for that shit.” He drove past the park where he’d found the amazing woman, heading toward the town. The street was littered, the banner torn down, flipping gently in the night breeze.  “Let’s talk a tic, Kit.”

She turned to him and ran a tender hand down his face. “We’ve had our time, Terry. And I thank you more than you’ll ever know. But there is no more time.”

She opened her purse and pulled something out. He was hoping for an address, a phone number, something, anything that would confirm that this day really happened. But a street lamp glistened off the pistol only a split second before it went off in her mouth.

Blood splattered then he lost command of the car, his foot pushing hard on the accelerator in an uncontrollable shock response. The Mercedes crashed into the car ahead, flipped then stopped, crunching into the corner of a building. And all Terry could remember was the sound of the gun, the sight of Kit’s beautiful hair, blown across the car, a piece of her skull lying in his lap.

~*~

He looked into Dino’s eyes. “I suppose the police will want to talk to me now.”

Dino shook his head. “Suicide, pure and simple.”

Pure and simple. Terry took the words into his brain, rolled them like he’d rolled her body around and around his bed. There was nothing pure and simple about a woman as alive as Kit, now lying cold in a morgue. He shook his head slowly.

“Terry, Kit Cable was dying.”

“We’re all dying mate, just some of us faster than others.”

“No, man. Really. The reports are that she had advanced ovarian cancer. The doctors gave her six months.” He swung around and faced Terry, his hands tight on the chair arms. “This was premeditated. She fucking used you, man. Don’t be thinking you had a damn thing to do with it.”

But he did. Terry felt a warmth deep in his heart. Kit wanted one night to feel everything before she felt nothing ever again. And she chose him to do that with.

“Take me back to the room, mate. I need some fucking pain killers.”

“Hey, shit happens, Terry, you know that.” Dino pushed the chair toward the door. “You gonna be all right, man?”

“Yeah,” Terry ignored a tear that had snuck from his swollen eyes. “Yeah, I’m gonna be fine.”

“Food and Creative Love”

by Rusted Root

from the “When I Woke” album

THE END