Emma's Treasures

by Rebecca Joyce

  Emma was in pure heaven, receiving pleasure from everywhere. There were so many feelings running through her at this very moment, but the biggest was that no matter what, these three men would love her till their dying breath, and she adored them.

  Wanting to show them how they pleasured her, she listened to Travis and relaxed her throat, allowing his full cock to slide completely down her throat. She swallowed, causing Travis to moan, “Oh, God,” as her throat muscles contracted around his stiff cock. The pleasure she received from loving them was irreplaceable.

  The constant friction between the push and pull from Tucker and Tate had Emma writhing as she ground her pussy into them.

  “Fuck, I’m not gonna make it. Tate, help Emma over,” she heard Tucker say between breaths.

  She felt Tate reached around, and began rubbing her clit. The sensation she felt as Tate massaged her clit created tingles throughout her body. Each of them began moving faster, and she knew they were close, too.

  With one hard rub and then a small pull, their combined efforts shook her body as she flew into subspace. Her screams of enjoyment were electric as Travis held tight to her head, spewing his cum down her throat as Tate and Tucker flooded her channels with their seed.

  Spent, Emma collapsed against Tucker, closing her eyes.

  “Holy shit,” Travis said breathlessly, falling on his ass. “What the fuck was that?”

  “I don’t know, bro, but I am feeling the same thing,” Tucker admitted.

  Tate, pushing her hair away from her face, leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Looks like we loved our girl into unconsciousness.”

  “We better get her home. Tabby is gonna be getting off the bus soon,” Travis said, looking at his watch. After dressing, he leaned over and picked Emma up, carrying her all the way home.

  * * * *

  Braxton pulled up, seeing Tate leaning against the front porch. Pushing away, he greeted the sheriff as he exited his vehicle. “Sheriff. What brings you out this way?”

  “We need to talk. Are your brothers around?”

  “Sure, go on in. They’re in the kitchen. I’ll be in in a minute,” Tate said, moving toward the slowing school bus.

  Braxton entered the kitchen to find Travis and Tucker cooking dinner. “Evenin’, folks,” he announced, taking off his hat.

  “Hey, Braxton, you stayin’ for dinner or is this an official visit?” Tucker asked.

  “Where’s Emma?” Braxton questioned.

  “Taking a nap. She had an exhausting afternoon.”

  “I’ll just bet. Anyway, I found out some information concerning the fire.”

  “Might as well go ahead with it. We can let Emma know the details when she wakes,” Travis advised, taking a seat.

  Braxton took a deep breath and began. “Well, after the conversation we had a week or so ago, I got curious about the house fire that took Glenn McKenzie’s life. According to the fire marshal’s report, the fire was started by an accelerant, more than likely kerosene or gasoline. Now, according to Isabella, Glenn was drinking heavily that night and had passed out in his den. When the fire started, she swore that she saw him running out the back door, but according to the coroner’s report, the man found in the den was Glenn McKenzie. So, I got to thinking, what if it wasn’t Glenn and Isabella was telling the truth. Now, according to my pop, who was on call that night, Isabella was acting erratic, under complete emotional duress, which is understandable considering her husband was in the house. But what concerned me was that she never changed her story.

  “I have three different reports saying the same thing, that she saw Glenn McKenzie fleeing out the back of the house. If Glenn did survive the fire, he disappeared. No one has seen him since. Now why, after everything had calmed down, would Isabella still continue to say that she saw Glenn running out the back? She wouldn’t, right? Unless she actually saw him.

  “So that left me with the question, who was the man in the house? Where did he come from? Then there is the disappearance of Glenn McKenzie. We all know that Glenn moved here to Treasure Cove when he was about twenty or so, so the chances of him running off to another town are slim, but if he had something to hide, that’s another story. Then there is the story of your father’s accident. Now according to the police reports, a witness stated that he saw a man pulling your father from the truck before it exploded. But when he was asked to give an official statement the next day, he changed his story. Then the following month, he and his family just up and moved. Something isn’t right here. I asked my pop about all of this, and I was told, and I quote, ‘It’s in the past son, just let it lay.’”

  Braxton took a breath, running his hands through his hair. The brothers watched as the sheriff got up and began to pace the kitchen. “None of this is making sense. I remember that night. It was horrible. The house fire that supposedly took Glenn’s life, then your father’s car accident, two deaths within mere hours of each other, but what’s nagging me about this whole thing is the witness report of Isabella. She swore on three different forms that she saw Glenn fleeing out the back of the house. I can’t get that out of my head.”

  “But you said the coroner identified Glenn. So there is no way he could have left the house. He is dead,” Travis said, grabbing a beer from the fridge.

  “You’re right, the coroner did identify Glenn. Apparently the body was badly burned. According to the coroner’s report Glenn was identified through DNA. But here is where it gets all weird. At Glenn’s funeral, two of the townsfolk remember seeing a man who looked exactly like Glenn hovering around in the trees looking at the ceremony. Now, no one else saw this man, but still Martha and Jacob McKenna swear they saw Glenn or someone who looked exactly like him watching the service.” Braxton turned to look at the brothers. “Do either of you know if Glenn McKenzie had a brother? Because I thought he moved here right after he got kicked out of the army. Well, that’s what my pop said.”

  “Not that I know of,” Travis answered.

  “See, that’s what I thought, but I have never known Martha to lie, let alone Jacob. Then there is this shit with the house itself. According to the fire marshal’s official report, the window in the den was broken.”

  “That’s understandable, Braxton, the firemen were trying to get into the house,” Tucker said, sitting down next to his brother.

  “Then how in the hell did the window break, shattering glass ten feet from the house? When you break a window from the outside, most of the glass shards should be on the inside, not on the outside. That window was broken by someone on the inside. Then there is the discrepancy I found in the coroner’s report. According to the report, the body of Glenn McKenzie was burned so bad that only DNA or dental would identify him. But the coroner reports other things like a recent break to the ulna bone, his forearm. Now, I don’t know about you boys, but I do not remember Glenn walking around with a cast before the accident. According to the report, that break was only three months old.

  “Then there is the DNA…which came back as 99 percent stating that the body was Glenn McKenzie,” Braxton advised the brothers, but it was the ashen look on all of their faces that told him something was up. “What?”

  “It was Dad. Dad’s arm broke when he was wrestling with that steer out in the back field. The damn bull charged his ass, throwing him. Dad landed wrong and broke his arm,” Tate said, remembering the drive to town with his father cursing up a storm the whole way.

  “Shit!” Tucker said, taking another swig of the beer.

  “What the fuck happened that night?” Travis asked.

  “Fuck…I want to know what all this means,” Braxton said.

  “What it means is that we have a third player,” Emma replied softly from the doorway holding the letter in her hand.

  Chapter Twelve

  All eyes turned to see Emma leaning against the doorjamb.

  “Baby, you should be resting,” Travis said, reaching for her first, with Tucker tight behind
him.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered, walking around the brothers to sit at the table. “Hello, Braxton.”

  “Emma,” Braxton replied, acknowledging her presence in the room. For the next hour, they all sat around the table trying to put together the big mystery.

  Emma was exhausted. She had a lot on her mind and over the last hour, she had been mentally drained. The boys, along with Braxton, took the conversation outside to check the cattle, while Emma checked on Tabitha. After seeing to her daughter, Emma went into her room to relax and try to wrap her head around everything.

  Lying in bed, she still had no clue who was after her or who this mystery person was, who wanted a will that did not exist. Nothing was making any sense. The only constant she had in her mind was the boys and Tabitha. If not for them, she figured she would be plumb stir-crazy. Her mind was still reeling from the letter from her mother. She took her death easily enough, since they really hadn’t had much of a relationship. But it was the news that Glenn McKenzie was not her biological father and that her mother had known who the mystery man was and didn’t say that irked her. Just who in the hell was her father and just where in the hell had he been for the last twenty-eight years?

  Forgetting about taking a nap, Emma walked out onto the front porch and sat, trying to think everything through, but nothing made any sense. First Mom gets knocked up by one of two guys she supposedly loves, and they supposedly love her. But for some unknown reason, Mom up and marries the biggest worthless piece of shit in five counties. Then five days after my twenty-first birthday, our house burns down, and dear ole stepdad supposedly dies in the fire. Then Mom up and moves us to Nebraska of all places, where I later find myself pregnant, which in turn pisses Mom off and she kicks me out, and I’m left to raise my daughter by myself. Oh, but let’s not forget the man who is trying to kill me, all because of some mysterious will and deed that apparently no one has ever seen. “Yep…that settles it. I’m living a freakin’ soap opera.”

  Emma was brought back to the present by a black BMW that pulled into the drive. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and neither were the boys or they would have told her. Rising from the swing, she walked down the front steps and waited.

  Watching as the car came to a complete stop, she heard the engine cut off and the door open. Out walked a tall man, about six foot five with curly, sandy-blond hair and a golden tan. He was dressed in a finely made suit with shiny shoes. He was clean-shaven, and damn he looked gorgeous. She could tell he was older than her. Actually, a lot older. She watched as he reached for a brown leather briefcase and gingerly shut his door.

  “Hi. What can I do for you?” Emma smiled as the man walked toward her. The closer he got, the better she could see him. There was just something about him that looked familiar, too familiar. “Do I know you, Mister?”

  “My name is Matthew Jenkins. I am looking for an Emma McKenzie.”

  “That’s me. What can I do for you?”

  “Is there somewhere where we can talk in private?” he asked politely.

  “Depends on what you have to say.”

  “It’s of a personal nature.”

  “Fine, come on in. I will put on a pot of coffee,” Emma suggested as she led the way into the house. She knew she was letting a complete stranger into the house, but something about the man seemed kind, and she knew she could trust him. So, going with her gut, she opened the door for him and let him precede her into her home.

  Once inside he stepped aside to let her lead the way. She noticed he didn’t say much, if anything, so she figured she would start the conversation. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jenkins, I know this is going to sound cliché, but you look awfully familiar, like I have met you before.”

  She offered him a seat at the table as she went to start a fresh pot of coffee.

  “You probably know my brother, Andrew.”

  “Andrew?” Emma turned, questioning him.

  “The town doctor. I believe the town calls him Doc Jenkins.”

  “Oh God, you’re Doc’s brother! Well, that explains why you look familiar.” She smiled and went to hit the start button on the coffeemaker. She found a seat at the table, making herself comfortable. “So, what can I do for you?”

  “Please call me Matthew. I am an attorney from California. I have been looking for you for a very long time, Emma. You, young lady, are hard to keep tabs on.”

  Jokingly, Emma responded, “Why? Am I wanted for something, Matthew?”

  He smiled, and that funny little nagging began in the pit of her stomach again. That smile looked familiar.

  “No. I was given some documents a while back, for your safekeeping. When you came of age, I was to hand them over to you and explain. But you kept moving around, and eventually I lost track of you. If it wasn’t for the sheriff running your name through the database, I probably would never have found you.”

  “Well, you found me. What documents?”

  “Yeah…What documents, and who the fuck are you?” a stern voice said behind them, making both Emma and Matthew turn to see Travis, Tucker, and Tate standing there with guns drawn.

  Holy shit! This isn’t happening! Seriously! I am going to kill them!

  “Boys, put your damn guns away. This is Matthew Jenkins, Doc’s brother. He came all the way from California to see me. Now sit! And don’t embarrass me,” Emma said angrily at the boys. “Sorry about that, Matthew. They have been a little jumpy lately.”

  “Jumpy! Woman, someone is trying to kill you, and you go and let a complete stranger into this house. I ought to take you over my knee and spank your ass till it’s bright red!” Travis shouted, moving closer to her.

  “Now, Travis, that’s not for company’s ears.” Emma blushed.

  “Excuse me a minute…Emma, who’s trying to kill you?” Matthew asked, concerned.

  “We don’t know. I can’t remember much about him,” she whispered, looking for Tate.

  He was there instantly, wrapping his arms around her, soothing her nerves. “It’s all right, baby. You will remember, it’s just gonna take some time,” he said, kissing her forehead.

  “Is my brother aware of the situation?” Matthew asked, getting to feet and pulling his phone out of his breast pocket.

  “Yeah, those who need to know are aware. Why?” Tucker asked skeptically, not completely trusting the man. Emma frowned at him, and would have said something but Tate hugged her tighter, silencing her.

  They all watched as Matthew Jenkins quickly dialed a number he knew apparently by heart and listened.

  “You son of a bitch! When were you going to tell me what the hell was going on around here…Don’t give me that shit… It was your job to watch her…I don’t give a damn about what you have been through…What! When…And when were you going to tell me that, on my death bed? You are such a fuckup! I wonder how you ever made it through medical school…Yes, I am in town. You think I would be this fucking pissed if I was back in California? Well, I am going to! So if you want to be here, I suggest you get off your ass and get here quick!”

  The room was quiet as they all listened. They watched as he closed his phone, and placed it back in his pocket. The calm, cool man that once sat before her was now a ball of rage. Emma watched as he ran is hands through his hair and sighed, biting his bottom lip. That funny little nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach went from barely there to full-blown panic in seconds. Emma had seen that gesture to many times. She knew what her gut was telling her, but her mind was screaming, no…not possible!

  Standing slowly, she took a deep breath and walked closer to the tall man. “Would you like some coffee? I am sure it is done.” Emma watched the distraught man turn to look at her. She was shocked at the spray of emotional torture played out in his eyes, from sorrow to anger, but mostly she witnessed regret. She gently smiled as she looked into his sea-blue-green eyes. “Have a seat, Matthew, and I’ll get you something stronger,” she whispered as she went to go get his coffee.


  Emma couldn’t believe it. He mother had lied to her, her whole life. What shocked her even more was the stranger, the handsome stranger sitting at her kitchen table. Who was he really? So many questions filtered through her mind and she wanted answers to all of them.

  Growing up the daughter of Glenn McKenzie had been no picnic. From early on, she had watched Glenn drink himself into oblivion almost every night, and when he wasn’t drinking, he was whoring around or fighting with her mother. Yes, her mother had tried to give her a nice childhood, but early on Emma realized to get out of dodge when Glenn was drunk.

  She just didn’t understand why, after all this time. Looking at Matthew, she imagined he lived a very nice life in California. He was well manicured, nicely dressed, and by the looks of that gold watch on his wrist, and the car he drove up in, she could only assume he was worth a pretty penny. So why now, after all this time, did he feel the need to seek her out?

  Enough had happened over the last couple of months that Emma really didn’t want or need to know the answer, but somehow she knew she was going to get the answers anyway. Mr. Matthew Jenkins looked to be a very determined man.

  Emma could hardly wait to see what he had to say, and when he was finished she was going to show the man the door. All this drama was starting to grate on her nerves, and she sure as hell didn’t need some long-lost relative showing up complicating her life any more than it already was. Just then, everyone turned when the screeching of breaks and crunching of gravel alerted them to another visitor.

  Nobody stood to welcome the newcomer, for Doc Jenkins just walked on in and began shouting, “You piece of cow crap! How dare you come home and tell her. She has been through enough and she doesn’t need this right now. So just pack your Louis Vuitton crap and head out.”

  “Not happenin’, Andy. I am here to fix what you fucked up,” Matthew replied.