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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.