Endings and Beginnings
Death and Destruction Series Book 8
Patricia Logan
Recently married ATF special agents Thayne Wolfe and Jarrett Evans are ready for some normalcy to return to their work in the ATF the way it has at home. They’ve just moved into their new house and neither of them are prepared for their next assignment, being tasked out to the FBI along with the rest of their team. They should know that when a desperate threat to national security is identified, the situation calls for all hands on deck.
FBI special agent Mac McCallahan and his partner, Lincoln Snow, have a new boss and are handed a dangerous case involving rogue military elites, as strong as an army. Someone has plans to take over control of the world’s supply of palladium, crippling the US economy. On top of all that, two of the men on their combined teams admit an attraction to each other which complicates the entire mission.
This time around, ATF Special Agent Nicodemo Devecchio and FBI Special Agent Mac McCallahan are sent in undercover while Thayne and Jarrett are assigned to monitor things from the SCIF… as if Jarrett could easily just sit still and watch… as if. In a monumental undertaking, US security forces here and abroad, have one goal in mind—stopping an enemy intent on taking down their government any way they can.
Join Jarrett, Thayne, and all their friends in the final installment of the Death and Destruction series
*Includes an exciting excerpt from “Thin Blue” (Thin Blue Line series Book 1) coming Summer 2018*
Endings and Beginnings
Copyright 2018 Patricia Logan
All rights reserved
Edited by: Liz Bichmann
Cover Design by: AJ Corza
Formatting by: JP Adkins
AuthorPatriciaLogan.com
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Remember:
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places, is purely coincidental. This book contains material that is only suitable for mature readers. It contains scenes of a sexual nature between two consenting men.
Readers are saying wonderful things
about Patricia Logan:
"Patricia Logan smells of old poo and doesn't wear pants… but her ability to weave perfectly real and sensual love stories into stories full of intrigue, suspense and the trials and tribulations of everyday life, pulls you in and makes you forget her personal hygiene." ~ Lisa Worrall
"Author Patricia Logan writes from the heart, sucking you into her story from the first page. She pulls no punches, telling gut wrenching heartfelt stories with a reality that makes you feel you are right there. Her kind of emotional honesty is rare and essential to great writing." ~ Jean Joachim
"Patricia Logan possesses the one key ingredient at her stage of writing that so many authors don't and never will; an editor who can translate her cirque du soleil act of random contortionist
word tappings into something presented as popular m4m prose. History will remember her fondly without the fondling, however, when someone eventually revisits her first drafts and realizes she's really written a cookbook titled "How to Serve Me'…. and a Delicious One at That!" ~ Kage Alan
"Reading a Patricia Logan book is not something to be taken lightly, the hotness contained within combined with multiple piercings can result in sudden breakage of certain adult toys
making rapid trips to X rated shops a necessity! AND she will refuse to take responsibility for the added expense!! Oh and despite the hordes of Navy SEAL's, Cowboys, leather, whips, ropes and other convenient methods of restraint, there are never enough firemen in her books. ~ Petronella Bond
“Patricia Logan is a walking contradiction that may be baking cookies with her grandchild one moment and writing an e-stim sounding scene the next. Known famous as being a cat lady, she picks up more and more strays as she goes along through life. I am just happy to be one of them. ~JP Adkins
TRADEMARKS LIST – Endings and Beginnings
Aqua di Gio: Giorgio Armani S.p.A.
Barrett XM-109: Barrett Firearms Manufacturing
C-130 Hercules: Lockheed Martin
Cheerios: General Mills, Inc.
F-18: Boeing
Glock: Glock Ges.m.b.H.
Harley: Harley-Davidson, Inc.
Impala: Chevrolet
iPhone: Apple Inc.
Jeep: FCA US LLC
KA-Bar: Cutco Corporation
Lincoln Navigator: Ford Motor Company
Minnow disk: International Business Machines Corporation
Mustang: Ford Motor Company
Naugahyde: Uniroyal Engineered Products, LLC
Nike: Nike, Inc.
Nissan: Nissan Motor Co., Ltd.
Nova: Chevrolet
Porsche: Dr. Ing. h.c. F. Porsche AG
Post-it: 3M Company
Range Rover: Jaguar Land Rover Automotive PLC
Ray-Ban: Bausch & Lomb
Remington: Remington Arms Company, LLC
Sig Sauer: Sig Sauer GmbH, L&O Holding
Sikorsky UH-60: Sikorsky Aircraft Corporation
Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation
Tom Ford: Tom Ford
Vans: VF Corporation
Walther PPK: Carl Walther GmbH
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Exclusive excerpt of “Thin Blue”
Other books by: Patricia Logan
About the Author
Dedication
Endings and Beginnings is dedicated to all the magnificent readers who took a chance on this series and fell in love with Jarrett and Thayne as much as I did.
“The reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.” ~ Albert Einstein
Prologue
Thayne stood in the kitchen of his new home at 6:00 a.m., watching the coffee drip through the coffee maker and into the pot. He’d woken from a deep s
lumber that morning and realized almost immediately that he was alone. He’d absently thrown an arm out to Jarrett’s side of the bed, wanting to pull him close, and then come up with nothing. The sheets were rumpled and cold. Where the hell is he?
Thayne had sat up on his elbows, letting the sheets fall away as he searched the room in the dull morning sun just beginning to illuminate the room. The bathroom door had been open with no light or fan on and he’d instinctively known Jarrett wasn’t in the house. There had been no smell of Starbucks brewing or sound of their hardwood floors squeaking under Jarrett’s stockinged feet. Somehow, his husband had gotten up, gotten dressed, and left the house entirely. The fact that Thayne had slept through it wasn’t what upset him. It was the fact that Jarrett hadn’t woken him with a kiss, told him where he was going or how he was getting there since he had no car, or left a goddamned note. Thayne had searched the whole house for a goddamned note.
He stepped up to the pot when it beeped and poured some into his cup. Jarrett’s mug sat beside his since he’d taken both of them down out of the cupboard with the hope that his husband would return with a bag of something bad for them like donuts and the morning newspaper. He hadn’t so his cup remained as it was, empty of the potent black brew Jarrett loved. If his husband were anything other than the trained ATF special agent that he was, Thayne might be worried about him. Of course, long before Jarrett had come to work for the Bureau, he’d been a Marine Corps sniper and had a hell of an instinct for danger. Thayne couldn’t remember ever meeting someone with such instincts. It was what made Jarrett a great agent.
As he picked up his cup to take a sip, Thayne glanced down at his phone that lay on the counter. No calls. He’d left two messages in the last hour but Jarrett hadn’t even bothered to return them. When the phone suddenly started playing “Benny and the Jets” at full blast, Thayne almost dropped the full mug of coffee he held. Jarrett had been fucking with his ringtone again. Thayne really had to stop making digs at Jarrett’s penchant for bluegrass music so he’d stop doing that. Thayne had begun to notice that his husband had been on an Elton John kick for more than a week now. Thayne could deal with “Daniel” but “Benny and the Jets” was over the line. He glanced at the screen. Jarrett’s familiar white hair, dimpled cheeks, and two-day stubble smirked on the iPhone screen as Thayne swiped it and answered his call. His ears were almost instantly assaulted with bluegrass over the phone line.
“Hello!” Jarrett screamed into the phone. “Thayne?”
Oh, Jesus. “Turn down the fucking music!” Thayne held the phone away from his ear, screaming into the microphone. His neighbors probably thought some hillbillies had come to town.
“What?” Jarrett yelled.
“Turn down the music!” A second later, the twanging tones of banjos disappeared and Jarrett was back.
“Mornin’!” he said, a hell of a lot more chipper than Thayne felt.
“What do you mean by that?” Thayne growled into the receiver as he lifted his mug and took a fresh sip. “Where are you?”
“I mean, good mornin’, my darlin’ husband!” Jarrett singsonged.
Thayne’s lips twitched into a smile against the brim of his mug. He turned and leaned back against the countertop, crossing his ankles as he relaxed into the conversation with his most favorite person in the world.
“Good morning. Now, answer me. Where are you? I don’t like waking up alone.”
“In fact, I shall be home presently,” Jarrett drawled in his best British accent. “I’m driving up the block, dahling...”
Thayne straightened, pushing off the counter as he walked out of the kitchen and into their living room where he knew there was a great view of their driveway from the massive picture window. “Driving up the block?” he said, as he spotted his silver Mustang in the driveway. He’d just assumed Jarrett had taken it to run whatever errand he’d had to run since he had no car of his own. His beautiful 1966 Nova had been blown up by the bomber who’d tried to kill them both the day before their wedding. “Driving in what?
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Jarrett said in his regular Jarrett voice.
Thayne realized he could hear the sound of an engine in the background. He hadn’t caught the fact that Jarrett was driving when he’d answered the phone but now it was clear that he was.
“What are you driving? The Mustang’s in the driveway.”
“I have a surprise for ya.” The humor in Jarrett’s voice was clear.
“A surprise?” Thayne set his mug down on a coaster and walked to the front door, pulling it open.
“Yeah. You’ll see.”
Thayne stepped out onto the porch as he heard the engine of a car coming up the block.
“Uh, okay.” Thayne swiped the phone and stepped off the porch, walking down the brick pathway toward the driveway on the side of the house. As a vehicle came into sight, he was really glad he’d set his coffee down when he did because he would have dropped the mug the same way his jaw was dropping now. Rolling up the block was an older model black oversized station wagon… correction… rolling up the block was an older model black oversized… hearse.
“What the actual fuck!” he said out loud. The wide car slowed as it passed the front lawn and turned into their driveway. The window was rolled down and Jarrett hung his head out, grinning widely. Two deep dimples punched into his stubbled cheeks, flashing two rows of straight white teeth but nothing stood out more than the mischievous sparkle in his husband’s ice-blue eyes. He lifted his hand and waved.
“Mornin’!”
Thayne couldn’t help but grin as the beat-up hearse pulled up and stopped behind his Mustang. Jarrett ducked his head back into the car and shut off the engine. The long front driver’s door swung open with a deafening squeak and he hopped out. He was dressed in faded blue jeans, white Nikes, and the black and red plaid flannel shirt Thayne had given him for Christmas. It hung open revealing a navy long-sleeved Henley underneath. He looked scrumptious and Thayne wanted to tackle him. He opened the white picket fence gate and stepped out onto the drive as Jarrett jogged over. He was grinning from ear to ear as he scooped Thayne up in his arms and planted a kiss right on his lips.
Thayne’s arms flew around Jarrett’s neck as he drew him close and kissed him back. The man was a lot of things if not sexy as hell and at the moment, Thayne was intrigued and in love. He kissed him breathlessly until Jarrett pulled back, his eyes flashing genuine amusement.
“What the fuck is this?” Thayne asked on a sigh, letting his gaze drop to Jarrett’s lips as he slid his arms down and continued to hold him around the waist. Jarrett released him and Thayne was forced to do the same, stepping back as Jarrett turned and threw his left arm over Thayne’s shoulder.
“This, is my new car. Ain’t it awesome?” Before Thayne could reply, Jarrett held the remote straight out in his right hand and pointed it at the car. A second later, the front of the car lifted into the air nearly twelve inches. Thayne noted the front tires remained on the ground and beneath the chassis, hydraulics exposed the polished chrome lifting system that some idiot had installed on the hearse. He felt a hard squeeze on his shoulder. “Thayne! Ain’t it awesome?”
“What the fuck is this?” He glanced around looking for a van parked on the street. Someone was going to jump out with cameras any second and catch the look of shock on his face as they filmed Jarrett punking him. No one was around. It was 6:15 in the morning after all. He turned his head to look at his husband with narrowed eyes. Jarrett was still grinning from ear to ear.
“Look what it does, darlin’!” Jarrett turned away from him and glanced back at the car. Thayne had no reason not to look. The damned thing was in his driveway after all. As he turned back to the hearse, the front end suddenly rose another six inches. At the same time, the back end rose, exposing all four tires with their shiny hydraulic lifts underneath. Thayne’s mouth dropped open as the front end suddenly began to jump. The tires left the pavement of their driveway and moved a good
six inches into the air. A whirring sound echoed along their quiet street as the car bounced up and down over and over.
They’re gonna cart him away and I’ll never see him again.
“What the hell are you… are you…?”
“Don’t ya like it?” Jarrett asked, still grinning like a loon. “I mean, yeah, it’s different but that’s what we need,” he pleaded.
“A hearse? Yeah, that’s just what we need, especially since we’ve avoided being carried around in one several times over the last two years,” Thayne replied. “So, you somehow thought, gee, how does it feel? I gotta buy one and drive it. Hey, maybe I’ll ride in the back when I’m bored.”
“I mean, of course it needs work,” Jarrett was going on, ignoring what Thayne had said. “But the engine… man, this baby purrs.” He dropped his arm from Thayne’s shoulder and walked toward the sled, holding out a hand and hitting the remote again. The hydraulics instantly dropped the right side of the car down as the left side rose another two inches. Jarrett grinned at him over his shoulder as he walked up and reached for the top of the open door, now level with his shoulder. He ran his hand lovingly over the battered windowsill.
The car was a hot mess. It had an Impala insignia which was polished to perfection and except for the whitewall tires which had been meticulously scrubbed until not a speck of road dust was anywhere on them, practically every inch of the car… hearse… was dented and scratched. The formerly black paint appeared to be rusting in places and oxidized white on the hood. The leather on the squared-off roof of the back of the vehicle was peeling, cracked, and missing in places. It was the 180-degree opposite of the gorgeous 1966 Chevy Nova which had been in pristinely restored condition when Jarrett had purchased the car after his brand-new olive-green Jeep had been blown up at the California-Mexico border during a case.
Endings and Beginnings (Death and Destruction Book 8) Page 1
