Planet Heist (The Dunham Archives Book 1) (15 page)

“There’s no way I’ll ever turn to you!” She whispered angrily.

“Tell yourself that tomorrow morning when your flesh is being eaten away and nothing can change that except me.”

Only one person saw the transaction between the Prime Minister and I. He glared at me, our past seeming to radiate between us.

I stared into the eyes of Dmitri Ivanov for three seconds, and then I ran.

June 19
th
3:20 pm

The Streets of Saize

After the session at the Prime Minister’s conference, I jumped in my car and drove away, the police hot on my tail. Behind me in a white police car was Dmitri Ivanov, his siren flaring. The lights touched my window as the night began to surround me.

“Pull over Kairee! You can’t run away forever!” Came Dmitri’s voice in the night, imploring me to yell at him. He knew I would.

I spoke into one of my favorite functions on the high class model I was driving – microphone with speakers that would blare out the back.

“Oh, Dmitri,” I spoke like a mother scolding her child, “So many years, so little real progress. You’ve tried to capture me too many times to count, but you’ll never, ever succeed.” I chided, knowing it would get to him.

Behind me, I heard shots ringing out. I was so tempted to swerve my car around and stop him in his tracks, but I resisted, telling my self that in moments, I would be near my house, and he wouldn’t be able to see in the force-field like me, so I would simply disappear. I drove as fast as possible, my foot almost breaking the gas pedal. I was suddenly in the force-field, driving up my driveway instead of down a busy road.

I jumped out of the car, thinking about the date tonight, more or less only going to appease Salah, and then get him out of my hair. There was only one guy that I ever really loved, and he lives in California, the heir to a mining fortune. Honestly, I’ve pretty much lost interest in Salah as a romantic interest, knowing that I would probably discontinue any talking with him when I had the Xeron.

But then I received a call. The house phone – a number that only fifty people across the universes had the privilege of knowing – rang out around the house. The first thing to strike me was curiosity, wondering who would be calling me, and, exponentially more importantly, why.

I picked up the phone and suspiciously asked, “Hello?”

“Hey, Kairee,” A very familiar voice said into my ear.

“Oh my god.” I was dumbstruck by his voice.

“I thought you should know that your invitation finally got accepted, thanks to me.” I could hear his smile through the phone, “And I know that you’re always trying to get in a good fight. So, come out to LA, and fight me. Like old times?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there in an hour. Can I bring some friends?”

“Rowan’s always welcome. Luckily here in California, hardly anyone’s heard of you two, so you won’t be arrested. Come to South Marine Avenue, I’ll find you.”

“Can I bring Rowan and another…friend…of mine?” I asked, not wanting him thinking there was anything between Salah and I, because there isn't.

“Another guy?” I could tell he was rolling his eyes.

“Not like that.” I replied nonchalantly.

“Whatever you say. If he can fight, he can come. I’ll be waiting for you.”

The line went dead, and I was suddenly thrilled.

I dialed Salah’s phone.

“Hey Kairee,” Salah said suspiciously when he answered, obviously wondering why I would be calling at this specific moment.

“Salah, I’m sorry but we have to go to LA. Now.”

I heard him sigh, “Okay. I guess I’m not surprised that we have to jet off somewhere. I’ll be right over.”

Rowan arrived at the house a few minutes later.

“Row!” I yelled when I heard the door click.

He rushed to the kitchen, assuming there was something wrong.

I smiled, letting him know that I was happy.

“What’s up?” He was suspicious, as usual.

“We’re going to LA.” I grinned.

“Are we going to see who I think we are?” He was smiling too now.

“Yep, he just called.”

We rushed upstairs, and I flew down the hallway to my rooms. I almost skipped into the closet, pulled out a few bags and set them down on the floor. I threw in some clothes, various shoes, and my makeup. For the next few minutes, I ran around the house collecting things I would need for a few weeks. I could still hear the voice in my head, the same voice I had wanted to hear for months.

June 19
th
4:20 pm

LA, California, USA, Planet Earth

Once we were on the street I had been told, I looked around for the familiar face I knew was waiting for me. Salah looked nervous, after I told him we were meeting a boy and I had accidentally let the words ‘an old flame of mine’ slip out, on accident. That was a while back though, I had told him, and he shouldn’t be worried. Of course, even I knew that wasn’t true. If it was romance Salah was worried about, he definitely had cause to be scared. The boy we were meeting was charming, attractive, and charismatic, just to name a few traits I had always known about him

“Kairee Dunham in the flesh,” I heard the familiar, seductive voice behind me, and I felt a tug at my heart, “I’m honored to see you again.”

I whipped around, ecstatic.

“Cal!” I was so excited to see him, I couldn’t contain myself. He hugged me, a feeling I had missed over the years. As I pulled back, suddenly embarrassed, Cal left his hands on my hips, “You look just like you did last year,” I smiled.

“And you’re just as gorgeous as ever,” He smirked. He took in my casual outfit, and was almost chuckling as he, too, was used to seeing me in formality – I had worn a pair of white washed jean shorts, and I billowy green tank top, with pristine white and teak wedges, with my hair up in tight ponytail to keep it out of my eyes, “I’ve missed seeing that beautiful face of yours this year,”

“You’re charming as ever.” I grinned. I smiled more and took him in, so familiar to my eyes. His scarlet hair was spiked around his head, shining in the sun. I looked into his bright, pale blue eyes staring into mine. He looked like the stereotypical American heart-throb-poster-boy type, stunning in every way. Long eye-lashes framed his dazzling eyes. He was wearing a white tee shirt that allowed me to see his perfectly defined chest, a leather jacket over, and a pair of black jeans, and he happened to have on my least favorite shoes, black chucks, but he looked surprisingly comfortable, laid back as always. He held his bright red motorcycle helmet in the crook of him arm, and his hair was flying around his head from the wind. His skin held a light tan now, but I knew he was naturally pale. Not nearly as pale as me, of course, but as pale as an American could get.

Memories flooded into my head. We had traveled this world and my own together, spending almost every hour together last year. I saw Cal and me on his jet black motorcycle, wind whipping through his hair on our way through Italy, past the Coliseum. Then, there we were on the top of Mount Kilimanjaro, looking down on an African plain after climbing for two days. In my mind’s eye, there we were again, laughing, on the Great Wall of China. At the Taj Mahal, in front of
Christ the Redeemer
in Rio de Janeiro, there we were. And, the second to last time I saw him, scaling a cliff face in New Zealand without any protection. That had been the best, as I had absolutely adored climbing for the entirety of my existence.

I could tell that we were both recapping last year, reveling in the memories.

“I know it’s only been a year, but I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” I exclaimed, and he smiled at me. Neither of us could stop smiling.

He squeezed my hand and then went to Rowan.

They grinned at each other and the two, who had been best friends since we were little, embraced. Rowan had never had many friends, but Cal had been his best friend out of the family, our only technically non-criminal friend. I say ‘non-criminal’ because he’s not what we call ‘on the record,’ meaning that he doesn’t have an official criminal record, but he’s a big name in the fighting industry, which is illegal, and the only reason he doesn’t have a record is that he’s too good to have been caught. Of course, I’ve never been caught either, but I’ve come close enough to have a record.

“Rowan, you’ve gotten taller,” Cal noted happily.

“But you’ve still got a few inches on me,” Rowan sighed, and it was true – Cal was 6’5 and still growing. He had always been tall, but now I figured he would be a foot taller than me in a year or so. I always did have a thing for tall guys.

“Is this your…friend?” Cal asked suspiciously, looking over at Salah.

“Cal,” I smiled, “This is Salah…”

“I prefer Salah the Younger, thanks,” Salah told him icily.

“Well, then I prefer Callahan Richard Gray the Third, heir to the Gray mining company fortune, pleased to make your acquaintance,” They nodded awkwardly, obviously loathing each other instantly. Cal turned back to me, again smiling.

“You ready?” He asked, taking my hand and beginning to walk down the street. I glanced back, sending an apologetic look to Salah, as he and Rowan were now forced to walk next to each other.

“So Kai, what have you been up to this past year?” Cal wondered as we walked faster, him clearly trying to distance us from Salah and Rowan.

“Nothing much, just kidnapping the queen, stealing diamonds and kicking butt. The usual. What’s more interesting is what
you
were up to. Tell me?” I smiled, really wanting to know.

“Well, my dad’s been out of the country on business, trying to convince someone that mining won’t go out of style. I told him to tell whoever it was that as long as
you’re
building mansions, mining will be valuable. Mostly, I’ve been taking it easy, since we just relocated to California. I’ve learned how to surf, paraglide, and I’ve been doing a lot of dancing,” He looked almost confused by that.

“Dancing
and
surfing?” I asked with a laugh, “These American girls must be all over you.” I smiled, using this as a back-handed question pertaining to his relationship status.

“Well, many have tried but, as you very well know, only one has ever succeeded. I’ve missed you a lot. I’ve been thinking about when I saw you last July, and-”

“You mean when you kissed me for the first time and then told me you were moving to America?” I asked sarcastically in an attempt to cover how much heartbreak I had felt that day.

“Yeah, and then you stomped on my foot and broke three of my toes, and I began hallucinating that I was dancing on a rainbow,” he laughed at this, “because you were wearing that fancy lipstick of yours. Anyways, I’ve been thinking about it, and I realized that I didn’t want to leave it like that. So I called you up. It was merely a coincidence that you finally got accepted into fight club.”

“What do you mean ‘I didn’t want to leave it like that’?” I asked, confused. As far as I knew, we had both gotten over each other through various phone calls and emails over the past eleven months.

“I
mean
, I want another chance.” He said simply, and I looked at him in shock, my mouth open.

“You want
me
to give
you
another chance? At What? Another relationship with me?” I asked, my mind racing a million miles a minute.

“Yes.” He replied, “I’ve wanted to be with you our whole lives, and I know you think the same thing about me.”

I smiled, thinking. Of course I wanted to be with one of the only guys that’s ever actually cared about me, but at the same time, it’s like he’s just showed up again, and now he just expects me to want him back.

But, my better judgment escaped me when I looked in his crystal eyes.

“I’ll stay here for a few weeks. You have until then to convince me that you still deserve me.” I tell him, full of sass, that I knew he would interpret as flirtatiousness. That’s one of those things about him – he always thinks I’m flirting with him.

“Alright.” He’s suddenly very excited, “Are you busy tonight?”

“After fighting, no. What did you have in mind?” I was suspicious – past dates with Cal had included everything from cliff diving, parasailing, and water skiing to racing jets to Paris, touring Italy in a day and exploring catacombs in Germany. Cal had always been such an unpredictable person, I had no clue what could be going through his head.

“You’ll see later. I promise we won’t leave the state of California, though.” He replied.

“That’s a first. Normally your dates are ridiculous and extravagant, but I can’t wait to see what you put together.” I smiled, unsure of what to think.

“Well, it’ll be something you’ve never done before, I promise you that.” He was grinning himself stupid like a little kid who had just gotten away with something.

“Whatever you say.” I sighed, trying not to think about what he could pull off. The heir to one of the most lucrative mining companies in the world, Cal had the assets to pay for anything. Plus, he’s got the raw creativity to pull it off.