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so intense that it felt like her skin was being ripped all the way down to exposed bone. But the effort was futile.
    Now J.J. stood over her and raised the knife.
    Vanity’s eyes focused on the steel blade.
    “As long as Daddy’s dirty bitch is alive, he’s going to protect her,” J.J. said.
    And then his arm plunged down.

From: Max
    My sister’s in a coma. If she dies, so do you.
    2:31 am 4/09/06

Chapter Four
    M ax had never been so serious about anything in his life. If Shoshanna didn’t pull through, then he stood ready to kill Vlad Singer.
    The little bastard was famous for his chemistry skills in creating new and potent club drugs. Seeing the punk chatting up Sho at Tar Beach had filled Max with a worst-case fear. And right now he was living it.
    Nobody had seen or heard from the MIT lab rat since Shoshanna collapsed. Max was calling everyone he knew—and even those that he didn’t—following up on any lead, no matter how vague, desperately trying to locate him. Vlad was the only son of a bitch who knew the name and chemistry of the drug that had Sho fighting for her life.
    Max sat in the hospital, a tight grip on his Sidekick II. He was practically willing the device to vibrate. Deep down, he yearned for a connection. Shit. Any voice would do right now. That included his father’s.
    Max hated waiting. For anything . It sucked. Especially for a guy who spent his entire life making other people wait. But there was a first time for everything. So this must be karma kicking Max Biaggi Jr. in the ass.
    His Sidekick II rumbled. He glanced down to see DANTE CALLING on the screen. God, it seemed like their stupid argument at Tar Beach had happened weeks ago, yet it was only a few hours old. “Hey, man.” Max’s voice quivered.
    “Dude, I just heard what went down. Where are you?”
    “NYU Medical Center. Sho’s in a coma.”
    Dante breathed a sigh of tempered relief. “Jesus, the cop said she OD’d. I thought she was dead.”
    Max choked up, rolling his body inward to control the convulsive sobs.
    “Dude, she’s going to pull out of this,” Dante assured him. “Sho’s a tough little girl.”
    “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let her come to New York with me.”
    “Don’t do this to yourself, man. You’re not to blame.”
    Max heard the voice of his mother hiss inside his mind.
    Where were you when your sister was doing drugs? Chasing some slut?
    “I should’ve had that shitdick thrown out when I first saw him. I knew Vlad Singer was trouble. I knew it!”
    “Sho’s probably still alive because you didn’t throw him out,” Dante countered. “Think about it, man. She would’ve followed his ass straight out the door just to prove a point. He would’ve given her the same drugs, too. Only that punk probably would’ve freaked and just left her somewhere. But you were there, dude. You knew what to do. You saved her life.”
    Max allowed the words of support to sink in. It felt so good to hear them. After a few beats of silence, he finally spoke. “For now maybe.”
    “Mark my words. It won’t be long before Sho’s talking so much shit that you’ll wish she was back in a coma.”
    Max laughed a little. “Thanks, man. I needed this. You know, for a maid’s kid, you’re not so bad.”
    Dante chuckled. “And as far as trust-fund twats go, I’ve met worse dudes than you.”
    Max cracked a smile. “This conversation is beginning to sound gay.”
    “Then let’s just get it over with,” Dante teased. “If you say ‘I love you’ first, I’ll say it back.”
    “We’re in New York,” Max cracked. “Not on Broke-back Mountain. Hey, is Vanity with you?” A memory flashed. “Hold up—didn’t you send me a text about trying to find her?”
    Dante hesitated. “She’s MIA right now. But as soon as I connect with her, we’ll come to the hospital. Don’t worry about it. You just hang in there.”
    Max started to reply, then stopped once he saw Dr. Elizabeth Tang walking toward