Hearing Rusty's answer, George clenched his jaw, but years of legal training kicked in before he could speak. Even when facing death, staying calm was essential. "I don't know what you're implying…" he said, his voice steady.
"Oh, you don't?" Rusty raised the switchblade, its sharp edge catching the light. George's eyes involuntarily shifted from Rusty's face to the weapon. The details of the blade suddenly came into focus—the lines of the steel, the reflection of his own face, distorted through a crimson hue.
"Hey! You even listenin' to me?!" Rusty barked, snapping George back to the moment.
"Huh?" George blinked, shaking off his trance.
Rusty's expression soured. "Are you deaf?" He glanced beside George, clearly agitated.
Suddenly, a flash of red light illuminated the street, forcing them to step back.
George turned to see what caused the light. Whoosh! A car sped past them, its headlights white, but a broken shard of red glass in the street caused the strange crimson reflection.
Shaking his head, George turned back to Rusty, who was still gripping the knife tightly, scanning the street. Crime was almost nonexistent these days, thanks to AI predicting criminal behavior. 'So why hasn't anyone shown up yet?' George thought, nervous about the lack of police presence.
"Rusty, put the knife down," George said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Please."
Rusty smirked. "You know, old man, I would, but—" He was cut off by a flickering streetlight overhead. He squinted up at it. "Weird…"
Vinnie, one of Rusty's henchmen, shielded his eyes from the flashing light. "Boss, I don't recall streetlights glitching."
"Me neither," Rusty muttered, his eyes narrowing as he returned his focus to George.
To the others, the blinking light was just a minor distraction, but George saw something else. In the shadows cast by the flickering light, he saw the Grim Reaper. The shadow moved, shifting from one pool of darkness to another before merging with the next streetlight's shadow. The flickering light returned to normal, but now a different streetlight further down the road started blinking.
"What the hell is going on…" Rusty mumbled, eyeing the next malfunctioning light.
George couldn't pull his attention away from the knife, though. It was as if the blade had grown, filling his vision until it overshadowed everything. His pulse quickened as the feeling of a sharp, phantom cut ran down his arm.
"Wake up!" Rusty shouted, snapping George out of his daze.
"Sorry…" George muttered, shaking his head again. 'Why do I keep zoning out like this?'
Taking a deep breath, George locked eyes with Rusty. "I'll get the money, I promise. I know I've said it before, but this time—"
"If you don't, what?" Rusty interrupted, eyes gleaming. "What could you possibly offer me now?"
George hesitated, then closed his eyes, grinding his teeth. When he spoke, his voice was resigned. "My house. If I don't get you the money, my house is yours."
Rusty raised an eyebrow and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You should've offered that up earlier. We could've avoided all this."
Vinnie leaned in and whispered, not bothering to hide it from George. "Boss, no one's buying houses these days. You wouldn't be able to sell it. Why not just cut him up and be done with it?"
George's heart raced. "Wait, no! I'm in New York! We could sell it cheap; people would jump on it!"
Rusty shook his head, unimpressed. "This sounds like you just trying to weasel out of the situation. Why should I trust you?"
"I…" George struggled for an answer, knowing he had no credibility left. 'Is today the day I run out of luck?'
Rusty eyed him, weighing his options. "Alright, you've got one last chance. You either give me the money tomorrow, or…" He raised the blade again.
"I'll take anything but that," George said quickly, fear overtaking his voice. 'No way I'm letting him carve me up. I'm not even sure my organs are worth anything anymore.'
Rusty smirked. "Smart." He flicked the switchblade closed and tucked it back into his pocket.
George sighed in relief, feeling the cold sweat on his back for the first time.
But Rusty wasn't done. "Now, empty your pockets. Everything. Pray it's enough to knock off some of that debt."
George's relief vanished. "I don't have anything worth that much."
Rusty's expression darkened. "I don't like waiting, Georgy. Don't make me."
Frantically, George emptied his pockets, his shaking hands pulling out what little he had. As he reached into his left pocket, the ring Lyle had given him earlier slipped out and hit the ground.
It rolled toward Rusty, making a metallic clink as it bounced on the pavement.
Rusty stomped on it with his boot, stopping its roll. George winced, feeling his stomach drop. Rusty bent down, picking up the ring. He brushed off some dirt, revealing the gleaming gold.
"What's this?" Rusty asked, inspecting it.
George's heart sank. 'If he thinks it's valuable, he'll never give it back.'
"Can you give it back?" George asked weakly, his voice betraying his fear.
Rusty grinned. "So it is worth something." He tossed the ring into the air and caught it again. "Tell you what—if this ring's genuine, I'll deduct what you owe me. Maybe you'll even get something back. But if it's not…"
'Or he'll gut me.' George thought. 'What choice do I have?'
Rusty took a step closer, holding the ring up to his eye. "What do you say?"
George stared at the ring, the weight of its history crushing him. 'Am I really going to sell my father's ring? The one Lyle trusted me with?'
The memories of his father and Lyle flashed through his mind. "Damn it." He whispered. 'Lyle would want me to live more than to keep the ring.'
He nodded slowly. "Fine."
Rusty smiled, squinting one eye to inspect the ring more closely. "Come back here tomorrow at sunset. If this ring's the real deal, you'll be debt-free. And with a ruby this big, you might even get something extra. But if it's not…"
"I understand. I'll be back." George turned to leave.
Before he could take ten steps, he heard Vinnie's voice behind him. "Boss, what if he's trying to trick us? What if he doesn't show up tomorrow?"
George quickened his pace, hoping Rusty wouldn't take the bait. He could hear the low hum of the city ahead of him. 'I'll disappear if I have to. Maybe find some place that AI hasn't touched yet.'
"Georgy," Rusty called out, his voice stopping George in his tracks. "Come here."
George turned, forcing a smile—what used to be his lawyer's 'business smile.' "What's the problem?"
Rusty shook his head. "I believe you'll come back tomorrow. But my guys here aren't convinced. The gold looks real, but how do we know about the ruby?"
George laughed nervously. "I can assure you, it's real. My father gave it to me before I was born. It's been in the family for generations."
Rusty tilted his head. "We'll see about that."
Vinnie stepped forward, holding something small in his hand. George's heart sank.
A diamond tester.
Rusty grinned. "I like how Vinnie thinks."
Without waiting for more, George spun on his heels. "I'm not dying today!" he shouted, bolting down the street as fast as his aging legs would carry him.
"Hey! Stop!" Rusty called after him.
"No!" George yelled back, refusing to slow down.
"You're running into traffic, you idiot!"
"Huh?" George looked ahead and saw an SUV barreling toward him, brakes screeching.
He tried to dodge, but his body wasn't fast enough. The car clipped him, sending him flying.
He hit the ground with a sickening thud, his vision going red.
'It's all red…' George's mind raced as he lay there, the world slowly fading.
Suddenly, his memories flashed before him. 'So that's what happened.' His father's words echoed in his mind. You'll be great…
'But I wasn't. I should've been more.'
Through his hazy vision, he saw the ruby ring roll into a puddle, its red shine merging with the blood in his eyes. With his last bit of strength, he reached for it, his fingers grazing the gold.
In the reflection, he saw the Grim Reaper again, but before he could react, his eyelids grew heavy, and darkness consumed him.