Page 10 of Ogre on Patrol (Monsters, PI #5)

Chapter 10

Thain

“ W hat?” I barked. “What makes you think that? I’d never touch her that way, Ellie. Not then. Not ever.”

Ellie's shoulders sagged, and she gave me such a stunned, sad look that my chest cratered. “Then she lied. All this time, she lied . She broke us up with her lies.”

“Tell me what she said back then, what she told you.” I felt as stunned as her.

“That you’d groped her, that you were mean to her. You pressed her against a wall and tried to kiss her. She pushed you away and turned you down, but you wouldn't take no for an answer.”

“You believed her.” I didn't think my heart could hurt any worse now than it had back then, but it did. I’d been falling in love with Ellie, and she’d ripped me apart.

“Ophelia can't lie. She's a truth witch.”

“Evidently, she can, because she did. I didn’t do any of that. ”

Ellie shook her head and sipped her coffee, plunking the mug back onto the table hard enough the liquid sloshed out. While blotting the spill up with a napkin, she kept her gaze on mine. “She isn't supposed to be able to lie.”

“Then don't believe me. Let it go.”

“I can't, because I believe you , Thain. Tell me what happened.”

I didn't like to speak harshly about others, but it was going to feel good to finally lay out my side. “She came on to me. I turned her down. I thought that was it. But then you stopped answering my messages. You don't know how many times I went to your house, even your grandmother's place, begging to speak with you. Everyone turned me away.”

“They sent me to an out-of-state council conference. Then, I welcomed the chance to get away. Now I wish I’d been here to see you, speak with you. Why would she do something like that? I don’t get it. We’ve been friends since we were little. We shared everything.”

Except me. Never me.

My jaw worked as I looked at the box of muffins again, my voice hardening. “Because she wanted to break us apart. Apparently, it worked.”

“I'm sorry.”

“We were younger. More trusting. I can see why you'd believe a truth witch over me. Ogres and witches were at odds back then. There was a lot of animosity between us and that in itself was a hard enough barrier to climb. ”

“Thank you for being gracious about this.”

How could I do anything else? I'd blocked off my feelings for this woman and tried to move on, but she'd haunted me.

Now there might be a chance for us to start over.

Her friend had lied, and she’d believed her, though with good reason.

I could snarl about this, leave her place and tell her I’d send someone new from Monsters, PI, but I didn’t want to go.

Because I still had feelings for this woman.

I wasn't going to waste time grumbling about her believing her friend or not giving me the time to explain, not when she sat across from me now, looking at me as if I truly mattered.

“You didn’t reach out to confirm what she said,” I said carefully.

“Oh, I did.” Indignation came through loud and clear in her voice. “I sent a bunch of text messages. You didn’t reply. I went by your apartment to speak with you numerous times, but despite your truck being in the parking lot, you didn’t answer the door. Then you moved away. I took that message loud and clear.”

“I didn’t receive any texts. I would’ve answered the door.” Why hadn’t I heard her knock?

Ophelia. This sort of magic wasn’t beyond her capabilities.

She’d ruined this for us, and I wanted to track her down and snap in her face. Bare my tusks and tell her what I thought of her trying to ruin our lives .

And her a “friend” to Ellie.

But right now, I was sitting across from the woman I’d never fallen out of love with. I was hurt back then, but she didn’t cause that pain.

Her supposed friend did.

I was shaken. Stunned.

And full of hope.

I tentatively reached across the table and took her hand, marveling all over again at how much smaller than me she was. I'd worried about that a lot in the past. Ogres were big all over, and I towered above most ogres. She was tiny, over a foot shorter than me. I'd die if I hurt her, though I was male enough that I was eager to give everything a chance.

Ogre-witch matchups weren't only intended to pair a couple who might fall in love. We wanted to mix our species in every way, even through our children in order to ensure the truce stuck. I kept picturing our babies with her hair and eyes, my golden skin. A mix of both our personalities. I'd cherished those images, holding them close and praying they'd come true.

“Where do you want to go from here?” I asked. No, I croaked. Because her answer meant everything to me.

“Well…” She frowned. “Where do you want to go from here?”

As far as we'd planned before, but she appeared skittish, and I refused to say anything that might drive her away. “We could take it slow. See what happens. I'll continue investigating the incidents here at your greenhouse and we'll interact, naturally?— ”

“Like the “naturally” kiss the other night?”

“I would like to kiss you again,” I pretty much groaned. “But we don't need to push this. We could maybe go out together sometime. Hang out here or at my place. Talk. Maybe we won't feel the same way again.”

I would. I already did. But no pressure, right?

“As for kissing…” I stroked my thumb across her knuckles, grateful she hadn't pulled away. “We could let things progress how they will in that direction.”

Her brow knit together. “That sounds vague.”

“Would you like directness? Because I'll give that to you, too, Ellie. I want your kisses. Your affection. I’d sweep you up and carry you to bed this instant if you told me it was what you wanted.”

“I… I…”

“No rush,” I hurried to say. Way to slam my way through this. I needed to take my own suggestion and slow this down. “Eventually, that is.”

Biting down on her lower lip, she jerked out a nod.

Ah, that made heat roar through me.

“I want it all, sweet one. All. But I'll settle for whatever you’re willing to offer.” To soften my statement, because that laid it all out for her, I gave her a smile, though it felt like it came out crooked. It was hard for an ogre to put himself out there for the woman he…

I still loved her. Always had and always would. There was no changing that.

“Okay,” she said.

“Just like that, okay?” My grin grew stronger, widening .

“I…” She tugged her hand away from mine and started humming, something she used to do when she was unsettled.

That told me to wipe the sappy grin off my face and act serious. Back away to give her time to adjust to this new change in our lives.

Ellie rose to her feet before I could say another word. “You need breakfast. Proper food. Not those muffins.”

I watched her bustle around the kitchen, pulling eggs and bread from the fridge.

“Do you still like cinnamon in your French toast?” she asked.

“Who doesn't?”

She flashed me a smile that reassured me. I'd started to worry I'd overstepped.

Her movements were quick but methodical, like working with food steadied her. The faint sizzle of butter hitting the pan joined the hum of the fridge, blending with the soft sounds of morning. Warmth wrapped around me, and for the first time in forever, I let myself think that maybe, just maybe, things between us hadn’t shattered beyond repair.

“Do you still like your slices soggy?” Her voice carried over her shoulder as she cracked the eggs and placed them in a shallow bowl, whisking them after.

“Not soggy ,” I said with fake horror. “Soft and perfect.”

“Soggy,” she grumbled. “French toast should be crispy, not gooey in the middle.”

“You want everything to have texture.” I'd noticed this about her right away. She preferred high-flavored foods and those that felt different in her mouth.

“You remembered.” She dipped a slice of bread into the egg mixture and laid it gently in the pan, where it sizzled, before adding another.

“I'll never forget something like that.”

She huffed a little laugh, her back still to me. “I'm grateful we were able to talk, to settle this between us.” She flipped the first slices over and got out plates.

Things were nowhere near settled between us, but they were headed in the right direction.

The smell of breakfast filled the room—the sweet spice of cinnamon, the rich scent of bread browning in the pan. It wasn’t only the food, though; the aroma carried something distinctly Ellie. The hopeful knot inside me loosened, and I wondered if she felt it too. Probably not. She was all focus, sliding the slices onto a plate and adding more to the pan, then layering everything with butter, her gestures practiced.

When she finally set a plate in front of me and sat back down, her cheeks were pink from standing in front of the stove. “Eat,” she said with a half-smile, nudging the bottle of syrup my way.

We ate, mostly in silence but not the awkward kind. It was the good kind. Comfortable. Her foot brushed mine under the table once, then lingered a second before she pulled it away. My brain stored every small detail—how she chewed and absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Moments like this were the tiny threads I’d held on to whenever I thought of her over the years.

I was halfway through my loaded plate when Ellie froze. Her fork fell from her hand, clattering on her plate.

My body jerked. She’d gone pale. She swallowed hard, and her eyes darted toward the back door as though it might bite.

“You okay?” I asked, my voice low, glancing that way but not hearing or seeing anything of concern.

Her head tilted toward me, but her gaze stayed locked ahead. “Yeah. I’m fine,” she breathed. “It’s probably… nothing.” But we both knew she didn’t believe that.

“Still get those moments of precognition?” I asked.

“Rarely, and I don't like what I'm feeling right now.”

Someone knocked on the back door, a shrill rap that made Crouton rise and scramble that way, barking.

“Allow me?” At her nod, I stood, ready for whatever was about to barge into her world. “Crouton, quiet.”

My—for now—obedient pup stopped barking.

The impatient shuffles on the other side of the door told me this wasn’t a casual visitor. When I swung the panel open, Misty Stanley marched in without waiting for an invitation, her sharp heels clicking against the tile floor like she owned the place.

Ellie pushed her chair back, rising as Misty stopped beside her, anger blazing on her face. She held a plant pot like it was evidence in a vital courtroom case, and from the set of her jaw, this wasn’t going to be anything close to a friendly chat.

“You,” Misty snarled, shoving the plant toward Ellie. “ You have some explaining to do.”

Ellie stiffened, gripping the back of her chair. “What do you?—”

“This.” Misty waved the plant like a weapon before dumping it onto the table between our plates. “Do you see this? This cursed thing is destroying my life.”

I stepped closer, though I wouldn’t interfere unless it was clear Ellie had need.

“Cursed?” Ellie's tone came out unsteady but controlled. “Misty, I don’t curse plants. That’s?—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Misty snapped, her voice echoing in the kitchen. “Ever since I brought this into my office, everything’s gone wrong. My assistant quit. The Vandeworth deal fell apart. And now the city council thinks I’m incompetent. Do you have any idea what kind of storm you’ve brought into my life?”

Ellie glanced at me, a plea for understanding flashing across her face. She turned back to Misty, holding her hands up and dropping her voice like she was trying to calm a wild animal. “I’m sorry you’ve been having trouble, but I don’t put curses on plants. I wouldn’t even know how.”

“Don’t play innocent.” Misty stepped into Ellie’s space. “I trusted you. You’ve ruined me, and you’re going to fix it.”

Ellie’s shoulders slumped as she looked down at the plant, her lips pressed into a tight line. Her fingers twitched like she wanted to reach for it, but I suspected she didn't dare. If the plant truly was cursed, she'd be unwise to touch it .

“I can replace it,” she said. “Or give you your money back.”

Misty’s laugh came out sharp. “You think that’s going to fix things? No, Ellie. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done. Don't think I won't make your life a living hell.”

As the daughter of a demon, Misty could follow through with that threat.

But that was enough. I wouldn't allow her to dump blame on Ellie, who was clearly trying her best to hold it together. I stepped forward. Misty spun toward me, her perfectly shaped brow arching as though she only now noticed I was in the room.

“No more,” I said. I wasn’t planning on yelling, but I wasn’t backing down either. “If you’ve got a problem, you can take it up with both of us. But what you’re not going to do is threaten Ellie in her own kitchen.”

Misty’s eyes narrowed. “And who, exactly, are you?”

“Someone who doesn’t appreciate bullying.” I squared my shoulders. “If there’s an issue with the plant, we’ll figure it out. Until then, you need to leave.”

She hesitated, her mouth opening as though she had more venom to spit, but my stare didn’t waver. Ellie’s breath caught, though she stayed silent.

Finally, Misty scooped the plant off the table, her glare switching back to Ellie.

“You’ll regret this,” she hissed.

With a sharp twist of her heels, she stomped out onto the back deck, slamming the door closed behind her.