A Stainless Steel Cat

Growing up in an orphanage made Royce the man he would become. Nobody even knew if Royce was his real name, first or last, when he was found on the doorstep of the cathedral in Los Angeles. He was left in a basket, and had a Rolls Royce keychain clutched in his tiny hand to play with.

The Priest, Father Lawrence, after taking the infant to the hospital for a checkup, had handed him over to the orphanage upstate and, for lack of a better name, called him Royce. The nuns who ran the orphanage named him Shiloh for a given name, making him Shiloh Royce on the paperwork. Since he didn't have an actual Birth Certificate, but appeared to be six months old in September, They listed his birthday at March 21st.

The orphanage was dependent on donations for food, schooling, and staff salaries. Those funds were provided by the Diocese in L.A. and Sacramento.

Royce grew up tough and smart. He quickly learned how to circumvent the nuns' authority, and became an expert at sneaking both into and out of the orphanage.

With his natural talent for stealth, by the time his 18th birthday rolled around, he was an experienced thief and had amassed a sizable stash of cash stolen from the church coffers. He never took much at a time, but what he did take, he saved. He had grown up doing what he had to do to survive, thinking ahead to what would be his last day at the orphanage and not wanting to go into the military like so many orphans did once they were Kicked Out.

He never saw it as a sin. There were no jobs to be had even for part time work during his High School years. It was a means to survive, and he knew he would have to survive when he got 'discharged from the care of the orphanage.' But call it what you will, he was being Kicked Out.

So the day finally arrived. He was given his Diploma and transcripts for college applications, and told in a nice way to "Get the hell out" by the Priest in charge. Royce walked away, threw the man a one fingered salute, and smirked as he walked away without another look back.

Royce had grown into a wiry muscled young man with dark brown hair worn medium length down to his neck and pulled back in a short half-tail behind his head to keep the bangs out of his eyes. His piercing steel gray eyes gave him an edge in the seduction department, as he would soon learn, and he had educated himself on how to win someone's trust, seduce women, and had read the Kama Sutra from cover to cover multiple times. He had stolen a copy from a bookstore one weekend, and had kept it hidden in his room in a hollowed out section of wall behind his bed. He had also trained himself to fight, and that training would also come in handy.

But Royce's greatest gift was the gift of gab. He could charm and talk his way out of trouble faster than he could get into it. His natural charm and charisma had endeared him to even the nuns at the orphanage, and they had been sad to see him go. Unbeknownst to him, as one was watching from a window, she giggled in a very un-nun like manner when he'd flipped off the Priest.

Two weeks later, Royce had his own apartment in Los Angeles, and was making a good living as a cat burglar. He'd used some of his ill gotten savings to purchase a ski mask without mouth hole, but with a singular 'cyclops' style eye slit similar to a ninja hood, windbreaker, black jeans, 50' of nylon climbing rope, a grappling hook, and other necessities. He invested in lockpicks and several small aerosol spray cans for spotting laser alarms. He also bought some mirrored ski goggles to hide his eyes from any possible surveillance equipment.

Royce targeted those places where the 1%'ers lived, and decided that he was going to rob from the rich and give to himself. He set to work the first night he was in his apartment. He could pick any lock, scale any building, and take what he needed. He scoped out the marks for three days before he struck, and knew by the way they were acting that they were corrupt. Mistresses while the wife was out of town, or shady deals going down with obvious criminals. He never intervened in those dealings, but he was able to scout inside with little resistance, since he'd learned young that as long as you're well dressed and look like you belong someplace, you can infiltrate anywhere. A sly wink to the pretty receptionist never hurt, either.

From his first heist in a high rise apartment complex, he stole a total of $25,000 in 50s and 100s. He purchased a money order with part of that and sent the orphanage back double the money he had stolen. He wasn't completely heartless, after all. Just pragmatic. He also wrote a note with no return address saying that was what he owed them with interest.

He also started a friendship with his upstairs neighbor. He had carried her groceries up for her one day in a rare show of selflessness, and in thanks, she had made lunch for him. They flirted back and forth, and it didn't even matter to him that she was black. Royce was sure that he wanted to get to know her better. He helped her whenever he saw her, and didn't understand why right away.

It wasn't really in his nature to be helpful with no hope of reward, but he somehow felt like she needed a friend, and he wanted her as a friend too. He'd had a few friends in the orphanage when he was there. Guys and a girl who weren't just marks to him. The girl, Bethany... He had lost his virginity to her, and had thought they had something until she went and did the next virgin in line. Oh well. Gotta be able to walk away at a moment's notice. He didn't take it personally.

It was his third week there, and the fourth time he helped Tamara with her groceries that he finally talked to her at length, and she made lunch for him again as thanks for all his help.

"Thank you for lunch, Tamara." Royce said with a genuine smile.

"Anytime, sweety." She replied with a smile of her own. "And since we're friends now, call me Tam. But NEVER call me Tammy." She saw the shocked look on his face, and her tone softened. "I don't like Tammy as a nickname. Sorry about that."

"No problem, Tam." Royce was suddenly nervous as she had put her hand on his in a comforting way. He felt his tongue tie itself up as he got hard under the table. The simple touch, more of a friendly caress, had awakened in him something he hadn't felt since that night with Bethany more than two months ago.

They had been eating grilled cheese sandwiches, and drinking lemonade. Royce felt his throat go dry, so he extricated his hand from under hers and took a gulp of his drink.

"Are you ok, hon?" Tam asked.

"Yeah, just thirsty." He blushed as he said it.

Tamara was gorgeous. She was 5'10" and could have been a supermodel, except that her breasts were probably too big. She had long shapely legs that went right up and made a perfect bubble butt of themselves. Her dark cocoa colored skin was flawless, and her wide nose seemed to fit with her high cheekbones and the rest of her face perfectly. Her hair, long and jet black, was pulled up in a ponytail, and her eyes were the most beautiful light brown he'd ever seen.

Royce wasn't short by any means. At 6'1" and weighing in at 175, he was thin but not skinny. He was, however, very quick compared to some muscle head who would hit hard but slowly. Royce could hit hard and fast when needed, but preferred not to get into fights in the first place. He wasn't a coward, but he saw the advantages of negotiating instead of physical altercations.

"So, where are you from?" Tam asked, breaking him out of his reverie on her legs and body. She was wearing a simple tank top and Daisy Dukes, and that only added to his nervousness.

"An orphanage up in Sacramento." He replied, managing to untie his tongue enough for that, at least. He gave her a genuine smile as she listened to him attentively. 'What's wrong with me today?' He thought to himself.

"Was it as bad as I've heard, being in an orphanage?" She asked.

"Nah, it wasn't that bad, I guess. We had three hots and a cot, and we had school. I had some friends, but never got adopted." He shrugged, finding it easy to open up to her. Her manner put him at ease. "How about you?"

"I moved here from New York a few years ago. My sister lives out here, and I wanted to become an actress like Halle Berry, but that hasn't worked out so well yet." She gave him a rueful smile at her own misfortune. "So I've been working as a computer consultant trying to make ends meet."

"Are you kidding? You're way hotter than Halle Berry! I'm surprised the Hollywood people aren't banging your door down to get you for a movie!" His words came rushing out before he could even think.

Tam blushed fiercely, then leaned forward and hugged him. "Thanks, Royce. You're sweet." She whispered in his ear as his own arms went around her, hugging her back. His erection was getting painful in his jeans, having her so close to him.

"Anytime, Tam. You're sweeter, though." He flirted, enjoying the feel of her upper body pressed to his.

"Aww, see? That's what I wish my boyfriend would say!" She said, and Royce felt his heart sink.

'Shit, she has a boyfriend!' He thought despondently.

She backed out of the hug and he looked at her. "You mean he doesn't think you're sweet? What's wrong with him?"

Tam laughed at his candidness and blushed again. She knew he was flirting with her, but she also sensed the truth in his words. Besides, he was really cute for a white boy. "I'm sure he does, but he never says it." Her tone was more bitter than she had intended, and that wasn't lost on her new friend.

"Tam, trust me on this. I'm not the best guy in the world, and I realize that, but if you were my girl, I would tell you every day how sweet and beautiful you are. I hope he realizes what he has, because he's a very lucky man." He smiled at her, and she felt a tear welling up in her eye.

"Sweety, I'm starting to wish I was your girl." Tam pulled him into another hug, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The loud knock at the door caused them both to jump slightly. Tam rolled her eyes.

"That's Darnell. Shit, Royce. I'm sorry about that. I should probably let you out. I'm already going to catch hell for having you in here." She rose and he rose with her to walk toward the door.

She opened it. "Hey, Darnell." She then turned to Royce. "Thanks for bringing in the groceries for me, Royce. I'll see you around."

"Anytime, Tam. Thanks for lunch!" Royce replied, then turned to Darnell. "Good to meet ya, man. Take it easy." He gave the large black man his most winning smile, and maneuvered past his muscled bulk to head down the stairs. He heard the door slam above him and got a cold pit in his stomach.

As he went into his apartment, he heard the yelling in the apartment above. 'What the fuck is happening to me?' He asked himself again. Royce wasn't the most empathetic person on Earth... In fact, he saw most people as just being there. So what was it about Tam that made him want to run back up those stairs and risk his own life to protect her?

"What the fuck was that cracker doin' up here, woman?" Darnell shouted at Tam as soon as the door slammed.

"Dammit, Darnell! He's my friend and my neighbor! He just helped me bring in my groceries! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Tam shouted at her boyfriend.

"He's a fuckin' cracker who wants to get into MY pussy! It ain't your pussy, bitch! Remember that! It's fuckin' mine, just like the rest of your skanky ass is mine!" Darnell rumbled a yell at her.

"No he isn't! He's a nice guy who helped me out, and I fixed lunch for him as thanks! Is that so damn wrong?" Tamara had had enough of this. Darnell had changed in the year they'd been dating. He had started off as a sweet guy and very hot, but now he was just a possessive asshole, and didn't trust her around other men. No matter how much she reassured him that he was her Man, he still didn't want her to even have any guy friends.

"Bitch, you know better! What have I said about having guys in here! Besides, a fuckin' WHITE BOY?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Darnell shouted, then hit the wall with his ham sized fist, punching a dent in it.

"GODDAMMIT, DARNELL! Now I'll never get my security deposit back!" She screamed at him. "GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Darnell was stunned. He stood there for a long moment, just looking at her as if she'd fallen off another planet. When he spoke again, his voice was low and dangerous. "What the fuck did you just say, you fuckin' ho?"

"I said get the fuck out, Darnell. This is my apartment, and now I'm damn glad I didn't move in with you." Tam kept her voice even now, having taken several deep breaths to control her temper. "I'm not your bitch, I'm not your ho, and I'm done taking your shit. You aren't the man I fell in love with, and I can honestly say that I haven't loved you for a while now. It's best if we just go our separate ways."

Darnell looked at her with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Bitch, you best reconsider what you just said. You're mine, and I ain't gonna let no fuckin' white boy have what's mine!"

"See, Darnell? That's what I'm talkin' about! You see me as your property, but I'm a human being, not your slave!" Tamara shook her head as she let him know what time it was. "I ain't your bitch. I ain't your ho. This pussy is MINE, but I let you... scratch that. I USED to let you fuck it! NOW GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POL...!"

His fist backhanded her, knocking her into the wall.