Everyone Underestimate Liam Cross

7: Risen

LIAM CROSS

I was making a burger for dinner, just something to quiet my thoughts. The sizzle of the pan filled the kitchen. When it was done, I plated it neatly and carried it to the dining table. My limp made my steps uneven, but I tried not to notice. I sat down, crossed my legs, and switched on the TV.

The screen came alive with color, light, and sound. Then the headline displaying on the TV hit me. "Engagement of Mason Drake and Isla Davenport."

My fingers froze midair. The spoon hovered above the plate, trembling slightly. For a heartbeat, everything around me went silent. My lips parted, but no words came out, I just stared. Then the muscles in my jaw tightened, and I slowly lowered the spoon.

Mason, ans Isla. I blinked once, hard, my throat tightening. I didn’t feel pain, not the usual ache in my chest. No, this time it was different, It was anger.

I clenched my hand around the burger. The bread squished under my fingers, the sauce spilling out onto the plate. I didn’t stop, I wanted to crush it... to crush them, to crush the version of myself that had begged for love and lost everything.

I licked my lips, tasting salt and grease. My breathing came rough, and uneven. Anger steadied me better than hope ever did.

Everyone who mocked me... the ones who called me crippled, useless, forgotten... they were about to learn. I wasn’t broken, I was rebuilding myself.

I picked up my phone, my thumb hovering over the screen. The reflection showed red eyes, unshaven face, and a man who looked more ghost than human. I swallowed hard, wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, and typed slowly: "I’m ready to regain my fire." Then I hit the send button.

It had been a week since the bridge incidents. Since Victor Hale offered me that deal and told me to think it through. I’d thought long enough. Revenge wasn’t a plan... it was survival.

And I was ready to rise above all hate.

****

TWO YEARS LATER.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you…”

Their voices filled the training hall... off-key, loud, and perfect. For once, I didn’t mind the noise. I smiled. Yes, I smiled. You heard me right. Something I hadn’t done in years, not without forcing it. But lately, I’d been smiling a lot. Even laughing genuinely.

The team crowded around me, their faces lit with excitement. Victor stood near the back, his arms crossed, and he had a proud smirk tugging at his lips. He didn’t sing, of course... he just watched, the way he always did when words weren’t needed.

The cake sat in front of me, white frosting, neat piping, and two bold candles: 2 and 7. Twenty-seven.

I can’t believe I’m twenty-seven already. Two years ago, I was ready to end everything on that bridge. Now, here I am alive, breathing, surrounded by people who actually give a damn.

When the song ended, there was clapping, laughter, a few whistles. I rubbed the back of my neck, a nervous habit that refused to die. “Thank you all,” I said sounding grateful . “I really appreciate your gesture in celebrating me today.”

Dean shouted, “Make a wish, champ!”

I chuckled, shaking my head. My fingers drummed lightly on the table. For a moment, memories of the past threatened to resurface... the hospital, the pain, the darkness. I blinked hard, focusing on the now. On the warmth in the room.

I glanced at Victor. He gave me a small nod, like he knew exactly where my thoughts had gone.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. My lips moved silently over a wish I’d never admit out loud. Then I blew out the candles, watching the smoke curl up and fade into the air.

The team erupted in cheers. Someone patted my back, another messed up my hair. I laughed genuinely.

Victor stepped forward finally, handing me a small box wrapped in simple brown paper. “From the team,” he said.

I arched a brow. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe,” he replied, smirking.

I tore it open and froze. Inside was a gold stopwatch which was engraved with my initials. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Now… we’re going to dip your head into the cake.” Dean grinned like a fool.

“No. Don’t even try it,” I warned, already stepping back.

But hands came from everywhere, grabbing my shoulders, pushing me down.

“Wait... hey! Stop!” I laughed between half-serious protest and surprise.

Then... splat. My face hit the cake, frosting smeared into my hair. Loud and wild laughter filled the room.

I lifted my head slowly, blinking through vanilla and cream, and for some reason, I smiled... Like really smiled.

“You guys are insane,” I said, shaking my head, wiping the cake off my face.

Dean laughed, slapping my back. “That’s what birthdays are for.”

I walked to the washroom, still smiling.

By the time I came out, most people had gone home. I looked around for Victor but didn’t see him. Maybe he’d slipped out already.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean called out, adjusting his jacket.

“Hey,” I replied, brushing my damp hair back.

“So,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “How about a drink? Just one. The night’s still young.”

“Sure,” I said, shrugging. “Why not?”

We walked out into the night, crossing the street. Then it happened when we heard a loud scream. “Somebody... please! Save my baby!”

I turned. A stroller was rolling fast down the slope, the wheels clattering. The baby was crying loud, and sounding scared. My chest tightened, I looked left and saw headlights... a truck coming too fast.

Before I even thought about it, my legs moved, as I ran.

The sound of my shoes hitting the road echoed in my ears, the air rushed past my face. My fingers wrapped around the stroller handle, jerking it back with all the strength I had left.

The truck roared by, missing us by inches, before it crashed into a pole.

For a second, everything went still. My breath came in short, heavy gasps. Then the woman screamed again, this time crying, running toward me.

“My baby... oh God, thank you!” she sobbed, holding the stroller like it was life itself.

People started clapping, and some brought their phones out. Someone shouted, “He saved the baby!”

I saved a life today. And in that moment, I knew I wasn’t the man they called a cripple anymore.