Thicker Than Blood - The Complete Andrew Z. Thomas Trilogy

death?' The guard shook his head, and his chiseled face showed no emotion. He said something to Orson, and my brother turned back to me. 'I'm sorry we can't have any privacy from these assholes.'

'It's fine,' I said.

'Oh, that's right, you're scared of me.'

My stomach tightened.

'It's been awhile,' he said.

'Fifteen years.'

'Why haven't you come before? I've written you letters practically begging to see you. You wouldn't come to my trial. What do you think that says to a jury when a defendant's family doesn't even believe him?'

'It was obvious you were guilty,' I said. 'Everyone knew it. Besides you just disappeared from college. It seemed pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with us. What'd you expect?'

'A little loyalty.'

'Well you blew it, not me.'

'Why'd you want to talk to me behind a piece of fucking glass?' He said suddenly, his voice more hostile. 'Think I'd hurt you?'

My hands began to shake, and sweat was running down my sides beneath my shirt. I tried to speak but my mouth had turned to cotton.

'Speak up. I can't hear when you whisper through the phone.'

'No,' I said.

'Well I wanted to tell you something, but I can't here. They're recording us.'

'Tell me anyway.'

'Are you fucking stupid? What'd I just say?'

'That they're recording…'

'Speak up!'

'That they're recording us.'

'That's right. Say it again.'

'Say what?'

'That they're recording us.'

'Why?'

'Just say it!' He yelled.

'They're recording us.'

'Again.'

'What are you doing?'

'Say 'they're recording us,' William!'

'They're recording us,' I said, and Orson groaned as a flicker of muffled pleasure spread across his face. He was distracted for a moment, and then he looked at me and smiled.

'Sorry. Small vices die hard, you know. You gonna watch me die tonight?'

'Yeah.'

'The old fucks coming?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'I don't know. You'd have to ask them.'

'Unfortunately, solitary confinement doesn't lend itself to interaction. What I was asking was your opinion about why they aren't coming.'

'I don't know.'

'Well what do you think? That’s what an opinion is.'

'They feel like everyone else. You're fucked-up. They'll be glad when you're gone.'

'Will you be glad, William?'

'Yes.'

Orson clapped his hands mockingly and smiled.

'I appreciate your honesty, brother. Does it scare you to know that you're part of me, and I'm part of you? Don't tell me you haven't felt it. That void, the rage. You're just too much of a fucking coward to embrace it. You think when I'm gone that black place inside of you will die. You hope, you pray that when I'm dead you won't have to think about it at night, lying in the dark, wondering what it might be like to give into that horrible desire. What's your fantasy, William. I like to cut throats. Tell me yours. The longer you put it off the stronger it will become. It won't die with me.'

I took a deep, quivering breath and looked at my watch. 'I bet people think you're me, don't they?' He said suddenly. 'That's why you've got that long hair and nasty beard.' He began to laugh hysterically. 'Tough to get a date?' He continued to laugh and tears escaped the corners of his eyes. 'Maybe after I'm dead, you won't have to look like Grizzly fucking Adams.' He stopped laughing suddenly and dried his eyes. A controlled rage came upon him. 'You ashamed of me?'

'What?'

'What?' He mocked in a sissy voice. 'You ashamed of me?' I thought of all the news clips I had seen and pictures of his victims with their throats laid open.

'What do you care? You just want someone to antagonize before they kill you? Is that why I'm here?'

'Am I antagonizing you?' He mocked. 'Did I hurt your feelings? I'm sorry, William. I'm so fucking sorry.' I set the phone down and stood up. Orson stood, too and punched the glass awkwardly with his chained hands as he stared in my eyes. The guards ran forward and forced him back into his chair, as he shouted words that ended where the glass began.

I walked back to the chair, and while I stood, picked up the phone. Orson had never let his go. 'Orson, do you want me to stay?' I asked. 'Do you wanna see a familiar face before they electrocute you?' Sweat was running from the top of his shaved head, through the crevice of his scar, and down the sides of his face. He nodded, and I sat down.

We said nothing for several moments. I stared at the ceiling as he stared at me.

'I met a girl coming out here,' I said finally. 'In Nebraska.' Orson's face lit up.

'She pretty?' He asked.

'Yeah.'

'She have big tits?'

I smiled. 'Oh yeah.'

'So did you get a little pussy?'

'I did.'

'God, I'd kill for some pussy right now. I get thinking about it sometimes, and it drives me so crazy I wanna cut my dick off. What was her name?'

'Tina.'

'Tina,' he said slowly, letting the word ooze out of his mouth. 'You fucked the shit out of her didn't you?'

I nodded. 'She was incredible, Orson. You should've seen her.'

'Did she scream when you fucked her?' He asked.

'Would it help your violent fantasy if I said yes?'

Orson rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. I thought he was going to slip into a rage again, so I asked him something I'd always wondered. 'Would you have tried to kill me or Dad?'

'I wouldn't have tried to,' he said. 'I'd have done it…if I had wanted to. Is that the first thing you thought of when you saw me on the news?'

'Yeah.'

'Well you didn't make the cut, William.'

'What's the cut?'

'Wouldn't you like to know? Wouldn't everybody? You know how many criminal psychologists want to get inside my head? I get at least three letters every day, begging me to do an interview. But you know what I tell