Innocense Through Crimson-Coloured Glasses

A Deal

        A balding, short man sat hunched over a small wooden table crying.
         "Please, please just give me more time." He lifted his head to plead. A tall man with fair brown skin and a short curly faded afro looked at him with pity. "Please, Namor, you gotta help me here my wife's pregnant." The man said, mucus dribbling down his nose.
        "We are not friends, don't dare call my first name." Namor said, fixing the collar of his grey suit. The suit compared to the man's tiny apartment seemed by itself far more expensive. "Your deadline has gone over six months. You are costing the company money, Gerald. We should of cut off some fingers by now..."
          "Please, please I am trying to get the money I promise! Not a day goes by with me not trying hustle after hustle to get it, I wake up with nightmares about it."
          "If you couldn't afford to pay it back then why did you borrow the money Gerald? You know, I was sent here to have you lose some fingers." Namor said as he stared into the trembling man's eyes, speaking just above a whisper.
           "NO! No, please sir." Gerald sputtered out, absolutely shattered now.
"I can't afford those kind of hospital bills, my poor wife- it'll kill her. The baby, I need to be here for the baby, we haven't even named the baby yet. I can't,  you can't, please don't kill me I finally have a family to live for now!" Gerald, all composer lost started again with his bawling. Namor stared at this pitiful sight before him, unable to hide his destain.
         "Ok. Where are you with the money Gerald? And get up, you're disgraceful."
          "I promise, I'm not far behind. I made this deal with this buddy of mine and the money should be here soon. As for the interest, I think I found a way to get it, if I just had some more time-"
         "Six months. You get six months Gerald, we need the $30k you owe us. If you go overtime, five hundred added minus your hand. Trust me, you won't talk." Namor said, sighing. Gerald let out a loud gasp and clasped his hands to thank God. Before Namor turned to leave Gerald's small apartment, a small middle-aged woman walked towards him.
         "Sorry sir, would you like some peppermint tea for your troubles." She asked him timidly. She lifted a Christmas mug, the sweet smell drawing him in. Namor looked at the man's wife, seeing her small action of kindness. He wondered if she knew why he was here, but the timidness about her told him exactly what he needed.
          "Thank you, Selene, it smells amazing." Namor said, accepting the cup and sipping it. The woman looked shocked for a second, then thought as to the reason why he knew her name.
           "We do background checks, including full real names," Namor said, in between sips. He sipped the hot tea quickly, returned the mug, and left. Unease burdened Namor as he drove away.

                                ***
           "Did you get the job done?" A tall muscular man with black hair and highlighted grays asked him. The man sat on a red couch using his computer. His navy blue T-shirt had some mysterious sauce stained on it.
          "Yes, father." Namor told him, before getting ready to leave.
          "Yes father I what?" The man said, removing his black glasses and turning his attention to his son.
         "Yes, father I finished the job."