“You were groggy after you woke up from surgery, and your dad asked you how you were.” Farrow tosses my shirt aside and starts carefully reattaching the band around my bruised abs. I’m hanging on his every word, and he notices. He’s irritatingly drawing this out. “What the fuck did I say?” I have to ask. Farrow is close to laughter. “You told your dad you’re naming your son Batman.” My eyes pop out of my head. “No I didn’t.” He has to be fucking with me. “Yeah, you did,” Farrow smiles wide. “Your dad asked you, what son? And you said the one in the Batmobile.” I blink slowly. “I killed my dad.
...more
