Chapter 2
Whenever Gideon laughed, it was always from the soul.
He had the kind of laugh that infected anyone that could hear it.
Even the most thug nigga couldn’t help but crack a smile at the very least when Gideon laughed.
There was just something about seeing a big ass six-foot, eight-inch nigga laugh straight from his belly.
The entire store was in an uproar because of Gideon. Niggas laughed with tears in their eyes by the deli, and kids giggled uncontrollably in the snack aisles.
“Nigga, you play too fuckin’ much,” Gideon said to Habib in between laughs.
Habib owned the corner store. NellanNem’s corner store and deli had been a staple in the hood of Desmore Bay for decades.
Habib came from Palestine when he was in his teens.
With a lot of hard work and hustling on the block, he was able to open a corner store by the time he was twenty.
Thirty years later, and he was still going strong, and the hood appreciated him for that.
There was nowhere else any hood nigga, around the way bitch, or little kid would rather get their snacks, drinks, and don’t get started on the deli.
Habib made the best chopped cheese and fried fish sandwiches.
He had employees to do all that now, of course, but if someone bribed him with cash, he would get behind the counter and hook a nigga up.
Hadn’t shit changed about Habib. He was still a hustler at heart and the hoodest Arab nigga to walk to the Earth.
“Aye, I’m just sayin’, man. You a big ol’ dumb ass man, and you look crazy sippin’ on that juice box.” Habib shook his head like he was disappointed in how corny Gideon looked at the moment, but the crinkle at the corner of his eyes and the way his lips tugged up let everyone know it was all jokes.
Gideon stuck his middle finger up at Habib, who sat back behind the bulletproof glass by the cash register with his feet kicked up while his employees worked around him.
“You know I can’t come here and not get right,” Gideon said as he finished off the juice box and crushed it in his baseball glove sized hand.
“Been like that since you was young, boy.” Habib agreed as he nodded his head slowly with a glint in his eyes.
Gideon looked at the ground for a second in remembrance.
There had been a time before he met Haze that he would wander around Desmore Bay to avoid going home.
He was just a kid who looked like a damn teenager because of his height.
He stumbled upon NellanNem’s one day, and a bond was formed between him and Habib.
Gideon could come and eat whatever he liked, in exchange for work.
Habib would have him stock shelves, break down boxes, and clean up.
Gideon happily did it because it kept him from his grandma, who didn’t really care what he did with his time, as long as he stayed out of trouble and out of her face.
Even after he was welcomed into the Laurent family, he would still come by the store to help out, simply because he was loyal like that.
He would even drag Haze along, who hated the shit back then.
Now, Haze appreciated Habib for everything he did for the community and for teaching his hardheaded ass some work ethic back when he was young.
Haze, who had been getting a turkey sub made at the deli, walked up to the cash register and tilted his chin up at Habib. “I’ma grab a bag of chips on the way out, too, playa.”
“Fo’sho,” Habib said in his thick accent as he nodded at his employee to ring Haze up.
Haze turned to Gideon. “It’s a situation back at the compound.”
“What kind of situation?” Gideon asked as he looked at the kids in line behind him.
They had to be no older than ten, with armfuls of candy, chips, and drinks.
He could tell they were trying to figure out how they were going to pay for all their items. Discreetly, Gideon reached into the pocket of his joggers and grabbed a bill.
After confirming it was a hundred, he handed it back to the kids without looking at them.
He could feel their hesitance, and his full lips turned up into a grin. He waited patiently until he felt a little hand slide the bill from his hand. A giggle erupted from behind him as a little voice whispered, “Thank you.”
Gideon grinned, and without looking back at them, he whispered back, “Welcome.”
Haze turned after paying for his things and walked toward the door.
“Y’all be good,” Habib said in his thick ass accent laced with hood pretenses.
“See ya, old man.” Gideon saluted Habib and ducked his head as he walked out the door of the corner store.
Haze was already on his black and green motorcycle.
It was one of many bikes Haze owned. The nigga had always been a fanatic over motorcycles, so when he was old enough, his dad bought him one.
That specific bike stayed at the compound, and it was rare he took it out to ride. Those were always emotional rides.
Gideon got on his all-black bike that was custom made for him. He was too big for a regular bike. The shit looked goofy as hell when he rode something regular.
Gideon noted that Haze looked irritated, and he chuckled. “Mad you can’t eat ya sandwich fresh?”
He knew his friend well. Haze loved the deli at NellanNem’s, and he preferred to eat that shit right there in the store.
Haze’s dark eyes found Gideon, and the small tattoos on his face wrinkled as he mugged his face up.
“You know I hate that shit, man. They talkin’ ’bout some chick ran up to the compound and passed out on the damn lawn.
She asked for me or somethin’ before she passed out. ”
Gideon frowned. “Man, what woman you done mishandled this time?”
“Don’t know.” Haze put on his helmet and flipped the visor up. “Guess we ’bout to find out.”
Gideon put his helmet up, and they revved up their bikes.
It took a long time for Gideon to stop being so timid around motorcycles.
He wasn’t too fond of loud noises. His hearing was ten times better than other people’s.
It always had been, so loud noises always irritated him.
He learned to deal with bikes, though, because he loved riding motorcycles.
Big Henry used to ride as a hobby, and he taught Haze and Gideon when they were teenagers.
When he passed when they were eighteen, Haze turned his grief into rage first. They got heavy in the streets and built an empire.
When Haze realized his father wouldn’t necessarily be proud of the moves he made, he decided to do something to honor him.
Vicious Kings Motorcycle Club was born then. They didn’t stop their street dealings, but Haze at least felt like he was doing something good with his time by creating a family with the club and giving back to the community in the name of the club.
Their ride only took fifteen minutes. Gideon smiled as they rode up to the compound.
It was the Laurents’ old home. The one where Gideon had his own room and felt love for the bulk of his childhood.
In fact, when they bought the home back years after Big Henry died, Gideon moved back in permanently. It just felt right.
They remodeled it to fit their need as a sort of headquarters for the Vicious Kings, but Gideon kept his wing of the place pretty much the same from when the Laurent family lived there as sort of an ode to them.
Haze wasted no time taking his helmet off after he parked his bike as he stormed toward the front door. Gideon followed, his long legs keeping up with Haze’s quick stride just fine.
Normally, niggas were out front kickin’ it and shit, but it was deserted, which Gideon found odd. When they pushed their way into the compound, Deja and Kyomi were the first ones they saw.
“Oh my God, there you two are.” Deja cried as she grabbed Haze’s arm and tugged him forward.
The entire downstairs had been renovated to be an open space that had everything a private club needed—a full kitchen, a bar, plenty of lounge space, a couple of TVs, and there was even a pool table.
The club wanted for nothing, and if they had to all come here and hide out, they could do so comfortably.
Today, though, it was chaos. Nothing but a bunch of niggas running around like their heads were cut off.
“She needs some water!”
“Nah, get her some food. A sandwich!”
“Nigga, she ain’t even awake!”
“Get her an icepack!”
Mayhem ensued around them, and Gideon immediately saw the source.
A woman lay on one of the green suede couches in what looked to be a tattered wedding dress.
Gideon inched his way closer as he watched Haze, Deja, and Kyomi kneel beside the woman.
He squinted, trying to figure out where he recognized her from.
He normally never forgot a face, but hers was hard to place.
Until Kyomi said the name he hadn’t heard in so long with tears in her eyes.
“It’s Glimmer.”
Glimmer. The girl he’d always known of but had only seen a few times when they were kids.
He remembered her vividly. She was always such a lively little girl with a vibrant laugh, but he never got to know her.
It was like their paths were never meant to cross or something.
She’d be in and out of this very home, but somehow, Gideon had only ever gotten glimpses of her at birthday parties or family gatherings.
Then he remembered when Big Henry died. He remembered how hurt Haze was that the Delacroix family seemed to drop off the face of the earth. He remembered how Deja and Kyomi cried many nights for the loss of their best friend.
It seemed strange that she had suddenly reappeared, and in such an odd condition.
“Fuck is she doin’ here?” Haze muttered as he smoothed Glimmer’s straightened hair away from her face. A beautiful damn face it was. She looked like a doll. The perfect representation of what a woman should look like. Petite, curvy body, smooth dark skin, and those lips . . .
“I don’t know,” Kyomi whispered. Gideon realized his mouth was salivating as he looked at Glimmer. He wiped his mouth and cleared his throat, hoping nobody noticed as he glanced around at all the people standing around.
“Haze, you know her?” Rome asked. He was a short and stocky nigga who had been down with VK since its birth. Real loyal mothafucka, and Gideon respected the hell out of him.
Haze glanced behind him at the gang of niggas staring at the woman he once held close as a sister. “Yeah, man. Old family friend. Can y’all give us some space?”
Just like that, everyone dispersed, but Gideon stayed put. He wasn’t about to miss a beat. When it came to people he loved, he could be a bit overbearing. The Laurent family clearly had a situation on their hands, which meant he did too.
“Aight, this what we gon’ do. Ky, you and Deja need to go buy her some clothes.
I don’t know why she’s here or for how long she needs to stay, but you know we gon’ hold her down.
” Haze looked up at Gideon. “Big dawg, I need you to bring her upstairs and keep an eye on her. I’ma call one of the VK doctors to come through and check on her.
I’ll make some calls to see if I can figure out what the hell happened to her. ”
Nobody really questioned Haze. Gideon could tell Kyomi and Deja wanted to stay with their old friend. He could also tell there was absolutely no love lost between the women. Once Deja and Kyomi loved someone, they were locked in for life.
Reluctantly, they stood to their feet and walked toward the front door of the compound.
Haze looked at Pup, the youngest and newest member of VK.
He was a YN who had been on the wrong path, but Gideon got ahold of him and gave him a purpose within the crew.
He still did his dirt on the side, like all the niggas here did.
It was how they kept their pockets laced, but at least with family on his side, he would be protected. “Go wit’ them. Keep an eye on them.”
“Got it, Prez,” Pup said as he hopped up from his seat and jogged toward the front door. He was a tall, lanky kid with smooth brown skin, baby locs, and a baby face.
Haze stood and looked at Gideon. “You got this?”
Gideon responded by lifting Glimmer up as if she weighed nothing. “I’ll bring her to my room.”
“You can just bring her to a spare room—”
“My room,” Gideon repeated as he walked toward the stairs.
He knew like everyone else that there were plenty of rooms for him to put Glimmer in, but Gideon felt like she deserved the best space in the house, and that was without a doubt his room.
He would make sure she was comfortable there and sit with her until she woke up.
That was his word, and around here, his word meant a whole damn lot.