FUSE by Deborah Bladon Read Free Book Online

the two of them were close. She'd married his father before they divorced when Beck was a young boy. Then she'd remarried and had another son, Jax. She'd lived in Los Angeles with him until her death.
    "She was amazing." He closes his eyes briefly. "I miss her."
    I'd like to tell him that I understand what he's feeling but I can't. "From what I read about her, she sounds like she was very special."
    "Are your parents still alive?"
    I nod slowly. I always feel a pang of guilt when I tell people that my parents are not only still alive, but have been happily married for thirty-two years. I'm fortunate. I know that. "They're both still alive, yes."
    "Are you close to them?"
    I was. I want to be. Grief has a way of pulling people apart even when it's bringing them closer together. I miss seeing them every day but I know that they love me. I hear it when they call me on the phone.  "I talk to them often," I offer to placate my own guilt about not initiating those calls myself.
    "Good." He rakes a hand through his dark hair making it even messier than it already is. "You know about Liz, don't you?"
    I steel myself to answer the question. The name feels intimate, yet foreign to me. I don't know him very well. We've shared less than a few hours together in tangible time but all of the time I've spent researching him has made me feel I know him. This must be what it's like for those who worship an actor or singer. They carry the knowledge of that person's personal life and that affords them a feeling of familiarity that feels both comfortable and misplaced. I know too much about him yet I find that I want to know more.
    I want to know about the accident. I read that she was in a car being driven by an intoxicated man. It crashed into a guardrail on the West Side Highway. The driver died and Liz suffered severe injuries. Beck took her to Paris to a hospital there and helped her heal. The more recent articles I found online chronicled the end of their relationship and her emergence back on New York's social scene, fully healed and happier than ever, according to quotes made by her.
    "I read about her accident." I bring the paper cup to my lips and take a small sip. The liquid is cold and bitter now.
    "Liz was a friend of my sister-in-law's," he begins before he reaches for the paper cup he placed on the table a few minutes ago. He picks it up briefly before he glances into its empty interior. "I met her a long time ago."
    I feel completely uncomfortable. I stare at the empty cup in his hand feeling a need to take it from him to throw it in the trash only because it will break the palpable tension between us.  "I can throw that away for you."
    He raises his eyebrows briefly as if he's questioning the question. "The cup? It's fine."
    I rub my hand along my cheek. "You don't have to talk about Liz or anyone else. I mean you don't know me very well."
    His shoulders shake slightly as he leans forward to rest his forearms on his knees. "I need a friend, Zoe. I don't have very many. I sense you need a friend too. I think we can help each other."
    "How can I help you?" I ask even though I already know the answer. He may be famous. He may live a life that most people would envy but he's lonely. Regardless of who he might have picked up and taken home after he put me in that taxi last night, he's still lonely. It's there. It's in his eyes.
    "You can listen and I can listen to you." He reaches towards my hand as if he's about to touch it before he pulls back. "You didn't take any shit from me at the pub that first night. I need that right now. I need a friend who can be honest. I need one who can tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself. I need hope."
    I need everything he needs but I'm too scared to express it. I left everyone behind when I moved to Manhattan. I don't run away from things. It's never been a part of who I am. I stay, I face things, I deal and then I move on but what happened last year is different. It changed every part of my