Gangs? Blood money? What?
"These are things we still do," Dad said. "Now, we have clean-up crews, but... Well, I still like to get my hands dirty every once in a while. Helps to remind me of where I came from and how far I've come. Keeps me strong, and it's going to do the same for you."
That sounded more like a threat than just him hoping for it.
"I still don't really understand..." I said. "Our family is part of a cult? We do rituals? Are they scary or something? And what do you mean 'get your hands dirty'? What are we doing exactly?"
Dad just blinked at me for a moment. Just when I thought he was finally going to respond, he abruptly turned away, heading to one of the doors that had a small window. Eric joined him, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. They unlocked the door and op
