Hour Of Darkness

Prologue - Before...Clarice

"No matter how dark the moment,

love and hope are always possible."

- George Chakiris

  

...Before...

 CLARICE

"It's my turn." Ten-year-old Clarice tried to grab the dice from her twin brother's hand. Aaron jerked his hand back.

"No it isn't." Aaron insisted. "You rolled, then mom, now it's my turn."

"Huh uh." Clarice twisted on her knees where she was positioned at the coffee table. "Mom. It's my turn, right?"

Dana Stuart smiled apologetically and shook her head. "Aaron's right, honey. It's his turn."

"Told ya." Aaron sneered and shook the dice in his hand as Clarice made a face at him. Aaron made a face back and dropped the dice on the Monopoly board. He picked up the tiny cowboy boot and moved it six spaces, landing on Community Chest. He took his card and read it silently to himself. "Awesome." He moved his game piece past GO then snapped his fingers at his dad. "Two hundred dollars, please."

Grant Stuart shook his head and handed over the money. "You sure you're not cheating?"

"Check the card, dad." Clarice suggested. "It probably didn't even say to pass go."

"Shut up, it did too." Aaron insisted.

"Hey." Dana shot a warning look at her son. "Don't tell people to shut up. It's rude."

"Sorry."

The doorbell rang.

"Play nice, guys." Grant said as he stood up and headed for the front door. "Remember – you're the only siblings you got."

Clarice and Aaron looked at each other and rolled their eyes, then grinned.

___________

The young white man was dressed nicely and looked like a college student, possibly from the community college. Grant stepped back from the peep hole in the door and opened the door half way. The young man smiled. He had a nice smile, the kind a father likes to see on the boy whose hand his daughter is holding and introducing as her boyfriend. It was friendly, even charming, though not in that smart ass 'I'm the shit' sort of way. Just genuinely friendly and charming.

Grant smiled back. "Can I help you?"

The muzzle of the pistol appeared out of nowhere and pressed against his temple. "You can invite us in, pops." A Hispanic guy around the same age as the white kid stepped in front of Grant, gripping the handgun.

Grant's hands raised slowly. "Listen, guys. I don't want any trouble. If it's money you want, I got some in a safe, but it's not much, a couple thousand. You can have it."

The Hispanic guy grinned. "Show us the money." It was as charming a smile as his white friend. If it wasn't for the gun pressed against his head, Grant wouldn't have guessed that these two young men were of criminal stock.

Anxiety and start fear knotted Grant's guts. Dana and the kids were in the next room. These guys seemed to only want the money, but what frightened Grant the most was that they hadn't bothered to hide their faces. Thieves who only wanted to grab the money and run...hid their identity with some form of mask. Intruders who intended on eliminating witnesses didn't see the need to cover their faces. But the weapon pressed to his head put him and his family at the mercy of these two men. And that wasn't a place he wanted to be.