Chapter 2

I've never been certain of the birth order between Joe and Danny. I feel like Danny was always made out to be the oldest, what with how Jamie described Joe complaining about Danny on the job. But didn't Frank once tell a story about Danny beating his older brother in a gloved boxing match refereed by Henry? For purposes of this story, Danny and Erin are the oldest and Joe and Jaime are the youngest of the bunch.

Jamie scanned the colorful beverages on display in the coolers lining one whole wall of the convenience store. He debated between a regular bottle of water and a flashy energy drink. He might need the energy boost they claimed to produce during the rest of his journey home.

What I would give to be there already, he thought as he compromised, choosing a sports drink to go with the protein bar he plucked off a shelf. They would tide him over until he made it to Bay Ridge and his grandfather's well-stocked refrigerator.

Jamie paid for his small purchase with his debit card and quickly headed back outside toward his car where he left the gasoline pump running, filling up his tank. He shivered as the cold breeze swirled around him, zipping up his jacket with his free hand. The temperature had dropped since he left Cambridge and barely a star was visible through the cloudy sky, but so far the weather was holding.

Jamie was replacing the nozzle when movement to his right caught his attention. He eyed the approaching stranger suspiciously, having noticed him on the way in. The redheaded man had been casually perched on the bumper of the only other vehicle at the station - an old white pickup with a mismatched red tailgate. He easily noted more details about his appearance - white male, late 20s, 6'2", blue eyes, scruffy beard, 200 pounds. Jamie considered that habit and pursed his lips to hide his smirk. That's what happens when you come from a family of cops, he mused to himself.

The stranger seemed to size him up as well, his own eyes narrowing when he caught Jamie's smirk. It did not go unnoticed as the law student intended.

"Hey, buddy. You got a smoke I can bum off ya?" he asked, jamming his chilled hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. If the blotchy red patches on his face were any indication, he was feeling the cold too.

Jamie glanced back at the redhead with a shake of his head just as the tickle in his throat had him coughing into the crook of his elbow. "No, sorry, man. I don't smoke," he said after clearing his throat. He turned back to screw on the gas cap thinking they were done.

"Couple bucks you can spare for some smokes then?" he persisted with a pleading look.

Jamie shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry. I don't have any cash on me either," he said, turning to get back in his car and out of the cold where he could crank up the heat.

"Come on, man!" the stranger complained as irritation crept into his voice. "Just a couple dollars. Don't be such an ass about it!" he added while taking a step towards his mark.

Jamie squared his shoulders at the insult and turned to face the other man. He too felt his own temper rising. He was tired and still had half of a long drive ahead of him, the last thing he needed was some stranger hurling insults at him. He wasn't trying to be difficult either, but he didn't have any cash on him. He had nothing more than the spare change in the console to offer, having paid for his small purchase and gas with his bankcard. That certainly wouldn't be enough to buy a pack of cigarettes.

"Really, I'm sorry. I don't have any money with me," Jamie repeated more sternly as he switched the bottle from one hand to the other and opened his car door.

"Prove it!" the relentless stranger demanded as he took yet another step closer.

"Excuse me?" Jamie bristled. Worried about the other man's aggressive demeanor, he turned to scan his surroundings. Unfortunately, the gas station was deserted aside from the lone attendant inside the small store, who, from this angle, appeared to be distracted by whatever he was reading. He and the stranger were the only ones at the gas pumps with the occasional passing car on the dark road off the highway. Just as he observed before, the white pickup truck with the red tailgate was the only other vehicle nearby.

"You heard me!" he challenged. "You were just inside taking your sweet time shopping for crap in there!"

Jamie stiffened, disturbed that he'd been watching and waiting for him to return to his car, but it was already late and he didn't want to make matters worse, so he chose his next words carefully. "Like I said, I don't have any money on me. If it's food you need, I can get you something inside," he offered, willing him to go away peacefully.

"I don't want anything to eat, you idiot!" the irrational man shouted, cursing under his breath as he shook his head in anger.

Jamie realized he may have come off as judgmental by not offering to buy the cigarettes, but he was tired and didn't consider them a necessity.

Suddenly, the stranger's eyes landed on the rear window of Jamie's compact sedan and the Harvard University parking decal affixed to the bottom, right corner.

"Oh, well that figures! Harvard, huh?" he sneered as he looked Jamie up and down with renewed distaste. "You stupid rich kids…think you're better than everyone else!"

Jamie glanced over at his ten-year-old Honda and wondered how it made anyone think he was a rich kid. And going to Harvard didn't make him rich either. Maybe the jerk wanted to know about his hefty student loans after he graduated. If he wanted to make incorrect assumptions about him, that was his problem.

"Let me guess," he continued, "driving down to see mommy and daddy in Greenwich?" he snarked. "Or maybe, Stamford? Or maybe you're just cutting through our parts to head back to effing New York City! Am I right?"

Jamie clenched his jaw to keep from firing back the smart ass remark waiting to roll off his tongue. His oldest brother Danny - the king of snark - wouldn't hesitate to snap back at the stranger, but he and Danny always handled themselves differently. It also didn't help that he was on his own with this guy and his detective brother had the added security of a weapon, which he did not.

"Look, I'm sorry. I don't have anything to give you, man. Have a good night," he said with a hard look before swiftly getting into the driver's seat of his car. He didn't even allow the stranger enough time to reply before he shut his door and locked it, but it was when the other man slammed his fists down on the trunk of his car and began to curse his lineage that Jamie quickly started it up, deciding he needed to completely remove himself from this situation before it escalated into one he could not handle with the larger stranger.

"Jesus...what the hell was his problem?" he muttered to himself as he sped away. He glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned at what he saw: the irate man was down on all fours staring at the Civic as it pulled away.

"What the hell," he mumbled in confusion. What Jamie missed was the redhead's attempt to snag the handle of his door as he took off. It threw him off balance when Jamie shot out of the was flustered by the incident but quickly shook it off once he was on the highway heading south towards New York. He turned on the cruise control button as he started on a dark stretch of road with, thankfully, little traffic. He took a moment to grab the neon-blue sports drink from the cup holder and broke the seal, taking a few chugs to soothe his dry throat. Then he deposited the open bottle in the center console ready to get his drive done and over with.

So maybe Jamie should have bought the stranger some cigarettes? We know Saint Jamie would have been more sympathetic if he'd been asking for food. Hopefully that didn't make him come off as judgy, it was definitely not the intention but it was necessary to start some conflict. :)