The Bad Things (Book 5)

Chapter 3. The Talk

Abigail stayed back at the hotel with Stormy. I came to the mansion to find out the DNA test results. Andersen led me to the study. Ace, Aria, Andrea, and Angel stood near the desk talking about me from the sound of it. Their talking stopped when they heard the door open. They turned to face me.

"Andersen, we know how much you love being sucked into DNA tests," Ace said and chuckled. "Do you want to do the honors?"

"I would be honored," Andersen said.

I followed Andersen slowly to where the others stood. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. My stomach twisted from the uncomfortableness that I felt. Some small part of me worried that we were wrong about the DNA test. I had taken plenty of tests in my life, but nothing like this.

Andersen opened the document. We stared at Andersen and waited silently. Too many thoughts ran through my mind as I stared at the man. Nausea and dizziness overtook me. My breathing stopped.

"You're a match. He is, in fact, Andrew Antonio Garcia," Andersen said and handed the papers to Aria.

Aria covered her mouth with her hand. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she stared at the document. Aria handed the document to Ace, and he stared at it in shock.

I let go of the breath I was holding as I took the paper from Ace. My eyes swept over it. "This is really real? It's accurate?" I had been fucked around so much in my life that it seemed hard to believe—no matter how much I resembled them.

"We sent it to the same lab that did Aria and Carlos when it happened to them. You can trust these people. It's accurate," Andersen said.

Andrea kept her hands over her face, hidden from the rest of us.

"How could we let this happen, Ace?" Aria whispered.

"It's not as if we let it happen on purpose, bebita," Ace muttered.

"God, what he must have gone through," Aria mumbled.

"You have no idea," I muttered darkly.

"I need a drink," Angel said.

"We all do," Ace added.

Andersen poured glasses of bourbon and handed them out. I slowly sank down onto the red velvet couch that looked as old and elegant as furniture from England. Undoubtedly, the couch wasn't new but somehow maintained.

I stared at the glass of bourbon as I spoke. "Now what? What are you guys? You're not movie stars, obviously. You killed Harold's father. You know about gangs. Are you a mafia of some kind?"

"You would think we would stop having this talk one day," Ace muttered.

Aria chuckled and nodded.

Angel kicked back in his desk chair with a cigarette and sipped his whiskey. "Well, let me tell you, I guess. We're the head of all Latin Kings. Those street gangs you talked about; they're not shit compared to what we are. Most of those street gangs don't even know we exist. We take out certain Latin Kings when we see fit. You talked about one that wanted you to join them. They're all going to die."

"You're Latin Kings?" I asked in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Why would you kill your own men?"

"We most likely aren't tied to the gang you're referring to," Aria said. "It's so big that we can barely keep track of most of them. We are where it started. The real Latin Kings, not the punk street gang you have heard of."