Their facial features are identical, but that’s where the resemblance ends. Apple’s hair is jet black now, obviously a dye job, as she and Addie are naturally blond. Her dark tresses are wound into a French braid that drapes over her left shoulder a la Katniss Everdeen. Apple has two nose rings and a lip ring, and black stars are tattooed around her left eye. She dresses similarly to Betsy except for the colors. Her peasant blouse and boho skirt are dark gray and black, respectively. Her fingernails and toenails are painted black as well, but her Birkenstocks are dark brown.
She’s the anti-Addie, and it makes me want to chuckle.
She approaches as I stand at the carousel waiting for my suitcase. “Skye?”
“That’s me.” I hold out my hand. “How are you, Apple?”
“Hanging.” She takes my hand and gives it a hard shake.
I spy my black bag and grab it.
“Come on,” Apple says. “I’m parked in the economy lot. You want me to take the bag?”
“No valet?” I can’t help asking.
She scoffs. “That’s Addie, not me. I don’t believe in spending money just because I can.”
I smile. Definitely the anti-Addie. “I can handle the bag, but thanks.” I follow her to the parking lot where we take a long walk to her—I kid you not—VW Beetle. Lime green VW Beetle, at that. Not black.
I’m beginning to really like Apple Ames.
She unlocks the trunk and opens it, and I place my suitcase inside.
“I thought we’d hit a bar and have a quick drink,” she says. “Somewhere public.”
Man, she really is worried about Addie’s ears. “Okay. It’s early yet.”
Somehow we end up at a small pub on the edge of Swampscott, the suburb where Bobby Black lives. I don’t mention that. Apple probably knows anyway.
The bar is kind of a dive, but it’s quiet. We snag a small table in the back, and after a server takes our order, Apple starts talking.
“I know Addie’s been warning you away from Braden Black,” she says.
“Oh?”
“Are you kidding? I know her MO. She’s been obsessed with him for over ten years.”
“Is it true she stalked him?”
Apple laughs. “Stalked? That’s a pretty tame word for what she did.”
“What word would you use then?”
“Ambush is more like it.”
My heart nearly stops. “What do you mean?”
“After he dumped her—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I say. Curiosity is killing me, but I can’t hear anymore. “I get that she was shaken and all, but I really don’t want to—”
“Shaken?” Apple fiddles with one of the many rings she’s wearing on her fingers. “Addie wasn’t shaken. Unless you mean shaken to the core by his rebuff.”
“O…kay. That’s not how I heard it.”
The server brings our drinks, and Apple takes a sip of her club soda. “Not surprising. There are only three people in the world who know what really happened. Addie, Braden, and me.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was there, Skye. I was there.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I take a sip of my bourbon. It stings more than usual.
Or is the sting from Apple’s words?
If she’s telling me the truth—if she was actually there—then she knows what went on between Addie and Braden.
She knows what I’ve been trying to get out of Braden for weeks now.
She fucking knows.
And then my own thoughts haunt me.
Didn’t I just promise myself, after talking to Braden this afternoon, that I’d give him the space he seems to need to tell me everything?
On his terms?
In his own time?
If I get the story from Apple, I’m breaking my silent promise to Braden.
Damn, though. She’s here. Now. Ready to tell me what I’m dying to know.
Ready to tell me…
I almost lost Braden after Betsy told me what she knew. Then I did lose him because I couldn’t tell him why the neck binding was so important to me. But he loves me. He made love to me. And I love him more than anything.
I still haven’t quite figured myself out, but I’m on my way. It has to do with punishment. Dire punishment that I feel I deserve. Rosa is right.
Braden is right.
Braden means everything to me, and if he finds out I got his story from someone else, he may never forgive me.
Right now, he and I have a chance. I’m well on the way to being able to answer his question, and he’s not pushing me for information.
That’s why I promised not to push him, either.
If I let Apple give me her scoop, I’m betraying him.
“You were there,” I echo her words.
“I was.” She takes another sip and winces. “Soda water tastes like shit, but it’s color and preservative free.”
“You don’t drink?”
She shakes her head. “Not since I was a kid. I’m sure you’ve heard all about the parties Addie and I used to throw.”
“Not really.” Just the one where Braden and Ben showed up, and Addie became obsessed with Braden.
“Yeah, they were legendary. Once I got into Zen Buddhism, I stopped all the alcohol and drugs and began treating my body like the temple it is.”