AARON
I jump from my chair on instinct; moving to Bee and throwing her behind me while I face the male voice popping up too close to us. The male is tall, probably only a couple of inches shorter than me, with black hair and a scruffy beard. His posture is calm and nonviolent, but the glare aimed my way promises nothing but murder.
“Who the hell are you?” I growl. Callan is pacing back and forth, but he is content just watching for now.
“I'm Trent. I am Brooklynn’s fiancé.”
I stiffen at his words. I don’t believe it— Bee isn’t the type of woman to do that— but his words still feel like a punch to the gut. Her fingers wrap around my biceps.
“I don’t know who you are,” she argues, helping me relax slightly. The male narrows his eyes at her.
“You don’t remember me?” Neither Bee or m
