Iris Giorgianni is no ordinary girl. She's living a double life: a neglected daughter at home, but a fighter on the streets. As the leader of The Sangue - one of the most wanted and well-known gangs in London - Iris has a reputation to uphold. Only...
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"Out of your vulnerabilities will come your strength."
- Sigmund Freud
THEY BARELY had time to recollect themselves, for the sounds of helicopters above drowned their voices.
And then sirens, loud and clear nearby, followed by a line of soldiers piling into the building, demanding everybody to show their hands, to respond immediately to each and every command. Hunter was carried out into an ambulance. Iris, also offered to be carried out, insisted she could walk to one. Several other casualties were tended to immediately. Others swarmed by police.
The moment, for most, was bittersweet, as although the ordeal was over, lives had been lost.
Chase had pulled Ember away from Wrench's body, his grave face ridden with sadness as he held her trembling body.
The Sangue, even Iris, watched the last moments of Sniper that they would ever get, sad that his life had never felt complete to him. Missing the Sniper they knew, before everything had changed.
Hunter was whisked away immediately for emergency service, so Levi was told he would be able to see him at the hospital. Instead, he followed Iris into her one, sitting on the chair as she collapsed onto the bed provided.
For a minute, they stared at each other in silence.
"Iris, my god it's taken a fucking lot just to get here." Matteo, unknowingly breaking the tension, entered the ambulance with a stern expression, his eyebrows set low on his face, eyes red and raw. "What is wrong with you? Calling me like that? Leaving me like that? I hate you." He wiped away a tear angrily, pulling her into a hug that seemed far too aggressive for someone as beaten and bruised as Iris.
Although wincing, Iris loosely held her arms around him. She seemed happy at least, to see him. Everything had still not sunken in properly yet. "I'm sorry."
"Well that's not good enough, is it?" Letting go, Matteo moved so that he could see her properly. "You're lucky I have connections, Iris. Having to get away from Mum and Dad was bad enough but getting the FBI involved? Thank god they were able to trace your call in time."
"Well," She tucked her hair behind one ear, blinking up at him with a puffy eye, discolouration over every inch of her skin, a swollen lip and uncountable cuts. Although she was unrecognisable, she was still Iris. "I didn't ask you to help, you know."
"I know." His concern finally eased into a grin as he took in her reply. Finally, that goofy smile she had missed. "I wanted to. For everything that happened, you know, in the past."
She leant back as if a wave of weakness spread over her. "Thank you."
Outside the commotion had quietened and the crowding had subsided, the area settling in back as it used to be, without sniper, without guns and weapons and violence, as it used to once be, as it always should have always been. One of the officers approached the ambulance, letting them know that they were about to leave, so everyone inside needed to strap in.
