Double Fault

By Janine Caldwell

DOUBLE FAULT is the 2nd book in The Vortex Series where Cassie and Trent’s problems have only just begun. As they fight through the repercussions of creating a parallel world, other dangers are lurking. After years of running, Trent and his orphaned sister, Lorelai, sense the dangerous and power-hungry Dr. Fox is close to discovering their whereabouts.

While Cassie fears for Trent’s life, her on again tennis career hangs in the balance. Caught between her old and new life, she watches her world slowly crumble until it’s a tragic portrayal of all that she used to know. But worse yet, if her secret is revealed, she might lose what’s most dear to her heart.

Set in contemporary Northern California, the Vortex Series is a teen romance for those who enjoy a mashup of science fiction, fantasy, a little music, and sports. This story is told from dual perspectives, giving the reader an intimate view into both Cassie and Trent’s worlds. First love and family relationships--how they interconnect and drive our personalities--is the heart and soul of this YA time travel novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janine Caldwell
• Release date: Mar 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476419220

Janine Caldwell

Janine Caldwell was raised in the San Francisco Bay Area town of Clayton. Four days after graduation, she rocketed straight to college at California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo earning a degree in English.Janine now lives in Anthem, AZ with her husband, two sons and one very cute dog. When she's not writing, she's practicing yoga, playing tennis, banging on the drums, or reading. As a lifelong literature fanatic, she knew it was a matter of time before she'd be obsessed with writing her own work. With relatives like the Brothers Grimm and Anita Loos (Gentlemen Prefer Blondes), she hopes fantasy writing is in her DNA.Books published by Janine include Visited, a YA coming-of-age fantasy and The Vortex Series: Rematch, Double Fault, and Deuce. Listen to her recent radio interview to learn more about her work. http://www.breakradioshow.com/archives/04292014-empowering-women/

Book preview

DOUBLE FAULT

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BY

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JANINE CALDWELL

Double Fault

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 by Janine Caldwell

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in any information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, digital, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, reprinting, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher or copyright holder.

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Published by Janine Caldwell

For Michael, Gavin, and Ethan

CONTENTS

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PART ONE - CASSIE

1. PARALLEL WORLDS

2. THE PLAN

3. BREAKING UP IS HARD TO DO (AGAIN!)

4. OPPORTUNITY

5. BEST FRIEND OR WORST ENEMY?

6. LACK OF FOCUS

7. THE WALKOUT

8. DREAMS

9. THE RECRUITER

PART TWO - TRENT

10. SUSPICION

11. NAÏVE MUCH?

12. THE DEMAND

13. ROAD TRIP

14. CONFESSIONS

15. SEDONA

16. LIFT OFF

17. FOX IN A NEW LIGHT

18. A MIRAGE

PART THREE - ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS

19. THE RESCUE

20. THE TRUTH REVEALED

21. MISSION WITHIN A MISSION

22. FAMILY REUNION

23. FORGIVENESS

24. THE PLEA

25. INSANITY

AUTHOR BIO

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PART ONE – CASSIE

1. PARALLEL WORLDS

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We are at it again. Trying to force Lorelai to remember. However, up to now, only Trent and I can remember both worlds. This makes Trent, my on-again time-traveling boyfriend, quite put out. It forces him to accept that maybe I’m more like him—more supernatural than normal. Let’s face it, the life he’s envisioned for me is not possible anymore, and I’ve never been more grateful. It’s no good pestering his sister with all this I tell him. What’s the point when I can remember plenty enough for all of us?

Ugh! Would you stop? Lorelai growls. For the last time... I... DON’T... REMEMBER! She narrows her eyes at the two of us into daggers of aggravation. If we keep at this much longer, she’s bound to chuck her cell phone at us, hoping to draw blood. We’ve clearly pushed her beyond her patience quota for the day, but I also suspect she’s feeling resentment behind her frustration. My brain, for some strange reason none of us can explain, has given me the ability to remember parallel worlds. I think this bothers her more than she’ll admit because it leaves her on the outside for the first time ever.

Come on, Lorelai, think harder! Trent orders. He paces back and forth along the condo’s wall of windows, one hand supporting his chin and the other across his stomach. He stops suddenly as if struck by a new idea.

What about the morning Cassie made us breakfast in our rental house? It was right after my mission to the Grand Canyon. We made total pigs of ourselves. We were going on and on about Cassie’s stellar cooking. Come on, you have to remember that! It was when Cassie invited us to have dinner with her parents. With eyebrows raised in hopeful anticipation, he cocks his head, waiting eagerly for his sister’s brain to comply with his demand to remember.

Lorelai presses her strawberry-stained lips together and solemnly shakes her head, her loose coils of dark hair bouncing over her shoulders.

What about when we took Bart to San Francisco? I chime in optimistically. You insisted on buying me that outrageously expensive dress for the Homecoming Dance. You told me it made my eyes pop. Do you remember that day at all?

Expensive taste, huh? That certainly sounds like me, but no. Like I’ve said for the hundredth time, I can’t remember. Give it up, will you two? I don’t remember those first three months and I never will! She shoots up looking positively ready to explode.

Even furious, I can’t help but think how alarmingly stunning she is. A warm shade of rose dots her high cheek bones over a flawless olive complexion, making her all the more captivating. If I didn’t know her better, I would’ve run away from her wrath by now, locking myself safely in a bathroom until she was gone. Her confident fierceness intimidates everyone, at least anyone with any sense. I, especially, was terrified of her at first. In time, though, when she fully grasped my love for her brother, when she understood that it was genuine and ran deep, she became an old softy. Not that I would ever make the mistake of calling her that to her face.

After one last huff, Lorelai whips around and storms out of the condo, slamming the door so hard behind her it makes the windows rattle.

Maybe we should-- I start to say.

Trent, biting back a smirk, lifts a finger to interrupt me. Hold on. She’ll be back.

I don’t think so, I reply skeptically.

Chuckling at Lorelai’s theatrics, he points to the cherry-wood console next to the front door. There, inside the silver bowl, are Lorelai’s forgotten keys. A few moments pass before the front door cracks open just wide enough to accommodate Lorelai’s arm. Blindly, she reaches in and clumsily gropes for her keys.

Lorelai, it’s okay that you don’t remember, I call out to the fumbling hand. It doesn’t mean anything. We’re sorry that we upset you.

She grabs the jingling metal before disappearing without a word. I sigh and peer into Trent’s deep-set eyes that never fail to cause my stomach to flutter. Even after a month of telling myself over and over that he’s really mine; he still manages to affect my entire nervous system with one simple glance. Today, though, there’s disappointment shading his dark eyes.

I guess our theory is wrong, I say glumly. It’s like her mind is defensively preventing her from remembering. We really shouldn’t push her anymore.

Trent strides across the room to sink into the couch next to me. He picks up one of my hands and gently traces over the contours of my knuckles, while the lines in his forehead deepen; worry lines that shouldn’t be so exaggerated on an eighteen-year old.

I just thought if anyone could remember it would be my sister. She’s been dealing with my supernatural powers for so long; I thought for sure we could jog that part of her brain. Why is it, Miss Cassie Moore, that you’re the only one who can remember? He runs his hand through my long hair before brushing my freshly cut bangs out of my eyes. Not that I’m complaining. Your memory brought you back to me. I just don’t understand how you were able to remember.

I involuntarily shiver from his touch, which brings a warm smile to his face.

I told you how. My extremely private journal was crammed with so much detail about my first life that reading it sparked my old memories. Maybe our problem with Lorelai is that we haven’t found the key experience to rekindle her memory. We need to ask her about something tremendously significant, something that would stir up emotion in her, I say, then think in silence for a few moments.

Shrugging, I add, Then again, my parents show no signs of remembering either. If witnessing their only daughter be shot right before their eyes isn’t emotionally powerful enough to make them remember, then I don’t know what is. I shake my head at the mystery of it all. "It’s crazy. When we run into Mindy and her family now on the tennis circuit, my parents just stare blankly at Mindy’s father as if he’s just any other fanatical tennis parent.

Even Kelli, my best friend in the whole world, can’t remember our friendship from the old life. She only thinks of me now as her friend with the never-ending tennis obligations, I grumble, frowning at the loss.

Trent puts his finger under my downturned chin and lifts my face so he can read my eyes. He has often said that my eyes are a dead giveaway to my thoughts.

I’m sorry that you lost out on sharing some happy, and some not so happy memories with the people you love, but I’ll never regret preventing you from being shot. Just you mentioning Mindy’s father, walking around free to do anything he likes, makes me insane! His fists clench up and his jaw spasms at this. If I had to do it all over, I would do the exact same thing, he says with gritty determination.

Trent always leaves me in a state of awe at his passion when it comes to my life. I don’t know why he feels so compelled to protect me, but I’m not complaining. I can think of worse situations than having a gorgeous hero by my side fighting my battles.

Not to bring up a sore subject, but have you decided what you’re going to do about tennis? he asks cautiously, knowing this is my least favorite topic.

I roll my eyes and cross my arms in a pout. No, I haven’t, thank you very much. Not that this stops my dad from pressuring me about it every five minutes.

Well?

Nothing’s changed. It’s still down to USC or UCLA. Those are the best academic schools that have offered me tennis scholarships, but I have no idea how to choose between them. I mean, picking the right college is kind of important, don’t you think?

What’s the problem? Either school would be amazing. You just need to choose, he urges, pressing his hand on my knee for emphasis.

I gaze down at his Native American cuff that I’ve come to view as part of him, a fixed element he’s never without. I notice how the red and yellow geometric shapes have faded, the leather worn and soft now.

You say that like the choice is easy, but I don’t want my college life to be all about tennis. Maybe I want to pursue other things; see what else is out there that might interest me. Is it so criminal to want that?

He shakes his head and gives me a sympathetic look. Not in the least. I think that’s very normal, especially since you don’t know what you want to study yet.

Exactly! Why can’t my parents understand that? Plus, I add shyly and pick at an invisible snag on my sweater, now that I have you back, I don’t want to be too busy, I explain, hoping I don’t sound too clingy. There will likely be masses of aggressive girls that I’ll have to beat off Trent in college. Girls like Ally Wright with amazing bodies and model-pretty faces, but probably worse. I can’t let tennis interfere with defending my claim to him. If I have anything to say about it, I’ll never let Trent slip through my fingers again.

He stares back at me with an amused expression, which makes me sort of worried.

You’re still keeping your promise, right? I wonder, biting my lip fretfully.

I wouldn’t dare unleash the ‘Cassie fury.’ But remind me, which promise is this? I believe I’ve made a lot of those to you lately, he remarks in an annoyingly calm manner while brushing his thumb across my cheek.

I huff and widen my eyes. The promise that you’ll apply to whatever school I end up choosing! I clarify, freaking out that he didn’t know immediately what I meant.

He chuckles and ruffles my hair as if I’m the silliest of girls. As if my doubts have no merit whatsoever.

I’ve already tried to live my life without you. You can bet your sweet cheeks I won’t make that mistake twice. So the answer is yes. I will follow you, woman, wherever you go.

My heart throbs soundly at his answer and I sigh in relief. Good. That’s what I like to hear. I steal a quick kiss from the lips that have been taunting me for the last hour. Well then, you better take me home. Mommy and Daddy will be expecting me for dinner per usual, I report, my tone thick with sarcasm.

Hey now, he scowls disapprovingly. You know I would love to have a family to go home to. You forget how lucky you are.

You’re right. Sorry. I’m just tired of fighting with my dad over all his grand expectations of me.

It’ll get better, he reassures me and cups my face tenderly in his strong hands. Everything will work out for us. You’ll see.

2. THE PLAN

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We stroll through the condo grounds with our arms tightly wrapped around each other, which makes walking almost awkward, but we don’t care. A lighted path leads us through the elaborately landscaped gardens of the complex. Its canopy of enchantment makes it feel like we’re wandering through the start of the Disneyland Pirates of the Caribbean ride. I’m waiting for a fake lightening bug to land on my shoulder.

This place is ridiculous, you know? I remark. I thought you wanted to move into a less extravagant home. Eagle’s Ridge is more like the poster child for luxury condo living at its best.

What? You don’t like The Ridge? he asks, pretending to be offended.

What’s not to like? Let’s see, there’s the state-of-the-art gym complete with a gourmet café, a resort-style pool that I bet could give any fancy Vegas hotel a run for their money, and those frighteningly attentive concierge dudes waiting in the wings, just hoping you’ll call on them. I could get used to The Ridge lifestyle, I say with a confident smile. But, tell me, how is this blending in and looking like an average family?

He laughs and picks a delicate white flower from a nearby bush. He tucks a few strands of my hair behind my ear and nestles the flower in carefully.

Hmm, technically The Ridge was never supposed to be my home. It was only meant for Lorelai. And, I don’t know, maybe I’m still trying to compensate for those years we lived in impoverished conditions. Regardless, I chose The Ridge for its twenty-four hour security and its exclusivity. I thought it would protect her while I was gone.

My insides twist up painfully to be reminded of how close Trent came to moving away from Pleasanton, the small town in Northern California we call home. It seems so long ago when I barged into his house revealing that I knew exactly who he was and what part he played in my past. Little did I know then that he and Lorelai were in the middle of a full blown crisis!

Once I did enter the picture, though, all of Trent’s plans to move away were put on hold. He really had no choice. Either he was going to figure out a way to stay, despite the private investigator sniffing their trail, or I was going to stow away in his suitcase. And since Trent is fervently against my running away with him and screwing up my life, he found a way to stay.

Before he opens his car door for me, he draws my face in, kissing me with an intensity, as if he too is thinking about how we almost had to live apart. When he pulls abruptly away, I’m left in a breathless, dizzying state. I can’t see straight and my head is flying somewhere high in the clouds. He grins at me then, the glint in his eyes familiarly mischievous.

I sigh. Okay, I take it back. Maybe he’s not really thinking seriously at all.

This is Trent’s favorite game—getting a rise out of me before taking me home. It’s almost like he’s trying to prove to himself that I’m utterly his, that I have no will of my own when he kisses me that way.

You know one of these days I’m going to get you back, I remark, aiming a dirty look his way that says I mean business.

He muffles his laughter then saunters around his black BMW to the driver’s side looking way too proud of himself.

Exasperated, I slide into the charcoal leather seats and fasten my seatbelt. I push the memory button to adjust my seat according to my personal settings. Ah, perfection. Trent believes this older model BMW is the perfect disguise. It’s not a car you might typically find a high schooler driving, which will hopefully throw off the PIs, and it blends in seamlessly with the millions of Bay Area commuters that tend to drive sedans such as this. Trent misses his convertible Jeep, but I have to admit I like this car far better. For one thing, my hair doesn’t end up looking like a deranged homeless person’s after a short drive across town, but also because we can have a conversation in this car without screaming ourselves hoarse. I like that I can reach over the narrow console to hold his hand instead of having to grip the Jeep’s steel doorframe to keep myself from bouncing out of my seat.

The moment Trent steers out of The Ridge’s safety zone, though, not even the pleasure of riding in his BMW can prevent my nerves from prickling. All my fear from the last few weeks comes flooding back at once.

Do you really think your new car will confuse the private investigator who is looking for you? I ask for the umpteenth time.

Trent raises his eyebrows at me. This again?

I can’t help it. Can you just explain your reasoning one more time? You always make me feel so much better.

I will only if you promise to stop worrying.

I’ll try, I mutter, embarrassed at my continual need to be comforted. How can I not worry, though, when it’s his life that’s in jeopardy? His life that he’s put at risk to be with me! Trent may have found a way to stay in Pleasanton, but I know it isn’t without consequences.

Well, let’s see. As you know already, after Lorelai noticed the PI following her over Thanksgiving, we made it look like we skipped town; that we decided to run again. We moved into the exclusive Eagle Ridge, ditched our old cars, and got new ones. And then, thanks to your brilliant suggestion, he bows his head and winks at me, we’ve both been excused from school, recovering from a nasty, highly contagious case of the swine flu.

So that the school administration will leave you alone without expelling you, but to outsiders, it’ll appear like you and Lorelai have dropped out or moved away, I recap, wanting his reassurance.

That’s right. If the PI tries to look for us at our old house or at Canyon Springs, he won’t find a trace of us. If he doesn’t think we’re somewhere across the country by now, he’s got to at least be temporarily set back in his search.

And then he’ll report to Dr. Fox that Pleasanton is a dead end, I confirm neatly.

Exactly. See, it was the perfect plan.

One question, I pause and wring my hands in a nervous gesture, what if Dr. Fox decides to come here looking for you anyway?

He won’t, he replies with the utmost of confidence, and yet, I catch him tightening his grip on the steering wheel as if the idea bothers him, too. Dr. Fox is an arrogant man; highly intelligent. He doesn’t like to do any dirty work; it would be beneath him. He’ll trust what the PI reports back and move on. Just remember, I’ve been dodging Fox for over six years now. I know what I’m doing, okay?

Through his cool assurance, I detect a twinge of uncertainty in his voice. Being caught by Dr. Fox, whose sanity is entirely in question, could mean death for Trent since Fox is interested in dissecting Trent’s brain. Dr. Fox is the only person who suspected early on that Trent possessed supernatural powers. Just when Trent discovered for himself that he could travel through time, he overheard Dr. Fox’s plan to perform experiments on him to find the root to these powers. Understanding that his life was in danger, he and Lorelai ran away from their orphanage and have been running ever since.

Dr. Fox is the driving force behind their constant need to move, the reason they have to hide their identity. When I think too long about the situation, my lungs stop working. However, I don’t want Trent to know just how scared I am; it only makes our time together tense. I choose rather to do what I can to make his life easier, better, happy.

Trent navigates down the winding roads to my neighborhood that appears somewhat dull after a day spent at The Ridge. Once we near the congested traffic areas I can’t help but notice Trent’s back stiffening. His eyes dart every few seconds into the rearview mirror as if he’s ready for a high speed chase. It’s classic Trent—going out of his way to convince me that he’s safe so I don’t worry, but subtle signs of his fear speak the truth. Like the gray smudges shadowing his eyes lately, hinting at his sleepless nights, and his jumpiness when we leave the condo just to take a walk.

Although Trent, Lorelai, and I don’t admit it aloud, I sense we’re all feeling somewhat helpless, especially when we aren’t clear about what we’re up against. I mean, are these PIs even dangerous? Do they carry weapons with them? What will happen if they actually find Trent? I find it hard to believe they would hurt a defenseless teenager simply to get a paycheck, but the notion is enough to want to lock Trent up in my bedroom forever.

I’m so bummed Christmas vacation is over, I say in an attempt to distract him. I guess it’s back to the tennis courts for me, huh? Oh well, it was a nice break while it lasted. My hand unconsciously flits to the platinum chain Trent gave me for Christmas. He designed the necklace’s unique charm himself—a pair of wings encrusted with sparkly gemstones. He chose wings to personify himself because I often call him a flyer through time. The gemstones are peridot for his August birthstone, which happens to also match the green color of my eyes, and diamonds for my April birthstone. It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received. I don’t want to even think about how much he spent on it.

Are you excited to get back to school after having a month off? I ask him.

Don’t be too shocked by this answer, but I really am, he replies with a crooked grin. Pretending to be sick, cooped up with no one but my sister for company has just about driven me bonkers.

Hey! What about me? Haven’t I been good company?

Of course, he says grabbing my hand. But you always have to go home. If only you could stay over, then I wouldn’t have minded this waiting period at all. He lifts my hand up to his lips and kisses it softly while my heart beats crazily at the thought of a sleepover.

Aside from that, though, I’m antsy to get back to the band and start rehearsing again. Who knows what Nate’s been up to unsupervised? For all I know he could be having The Grenades experiment with pop music. He shudders in horror.

Plus, he continues and gives me a sly sidelong glance, I’m looking forward to stop pretending that we just met. We are planning on being a couple when the semester starts up, right? he verifies and is at once tense and determined.

I cringe and chew on my lip apprehensively, knowing how much he’s going to hate my response.

I want to, Trent, but we have to ease into it. You know as well as I do that it’s not that simple.

Cassie... he starts, his smoldering eyes sending me a warning.

Just hear me out. In this new life none of my friends or family has heard me mention you until these last couple of weeks. You weren’t at school before the Christmas break to give our relationship any credibility, so I haven’t told anyone that we’re dating, I end in a rush with another fearful cringe.

You’re joking! He scowls at me in disbelief and I chime in swiftly to explain.

I’m going to tell them, of course. I just think it’ll be a good idea to allow a month’s grace period before announcing to the world that I have a new boyfriend already.

"A month! Please tell me you mean a month from Thanksgiving