He releases Lucky and steps toward me, his face set in narrow-eyed disbelief. Dangerous intent lines his muscles. “You went into my room.” Step. “Without permission.” Step. “Rifled through my closet.” Step. “And stole from me?” Panic. PANIC. Damn it, why can’t I move? I’m frozen still; someone’s dipped me in ice. “I— It was a bet. I had to. I lost, and I had to do a dare, and I didn’t have a choice, and I—”
