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And Ward looks back at me.
“Oh, hey, Jax,” Ward says.
Wait… Ward…?
The drunk? The alcoholic? The guy who’s supposed to be in rehab right now?
I feel my eyes narrow, curling toward one another. My nostrils flare. My teeth grit. I’ve got the poise of a hungry lion and pissed off cobra.
I’m ready to attack.
My hands ball up into fists.
“It’s all good, Jax,” Ward says. “Look at me, man. I’m sober. Cleaner than a load of dishes after the dishwasher runs!”
He laughs.
I move my eyes toward Mila.
She’s still covering her mouth.
I can’t tell if she’s shocked, scared, or guilty…
Guilty? Guilty for what…?
I’m not sure, but there’s a vibe here right now.
There’s a vibe I’m not sure of at all.
“Look, Jax, it’s fine,” Ward says. “I’m here… peacefully…”
Ward shows his hands to me.
Like I give a shit if he’s here peacefully or not.
“Mila?” I ask. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Whoa, the language, dude,” Ward says. “We can all just talk. I get it. You’re checking up on things. You did great, Jax. Everything you did. We both appreciate it.”
We both…?
I curl my lip.
“Ward, just stop talking,” Mila says.
“No, it’s fine,” I say. “Seems like he has a lot to say right now. Didn’t realize rehab was that quick, huh?”
“I left,” Ward says.
“Smart,” I say.
“Jax,” Mila growls. “Stop it.”
“Me?” I ask. “Me… stop…? Stop what, Mila?”
“Jax, I know the last time you saw me it was really bad,” Ward says. “I probably owe you some handshakes and thanks. Hell, I owe you a beer!”
Ward laughs.
