The House of Grey- Volume 3 Read Free Page A

stick of bacon.
    “Dude, where am I? And you’re not holding up any. Why are you eating bacon?”
    “You’re in the campus hospital, of course I’m not holding up any fingers - who actually holds up fingers? - and I’m eating bacon because it’s bacon. Are you still messed up from the drugs? Because that is an incredibly stupid question. Why does anyone eat bacon?”
    “I’m in the hospital, but how did I get - ” Monson broke off. It came back to him: the game, his weird conversations with Cyann and Damion, and walking through the parking lot with Casey and Artorius. Artorius…. He remembered screams, screeching tires and -
    “Artorius!” Monson sat up and tried to get out of bed, only to realize that he was hooked up to an IV. Monson looked down at his arm. “Seriously?”
    “It wasn’t my idea.”
    “It was mine, actually.” Mr. Gatt walked in, followed by Brian and Artorius.
    “Arthur!” Monson ran over to Artorius, pulling the IV stand along with him. He threw his arms around Artorius. “You’re all right? You didn’t get hit?”
    “Grey!” Artorius appeared embarrassed. “Get a grip. I’m fine. I got a little banged up, that’s all.”
    Casey yawned. “He really is, Grey. Arthur has always been resilient. You should be far more worried about the guy who almost hit you.”
    Casey lowered his voice. “And his car. I always said that Arthur’s oversized girth would be a problem. He basically broke that guy’s Ferrari.”
    Artorius popped Casey over the head. “I don’t have ‘girth.’ That makes me sound like I’m some sort of blob.”
    Casey started whistling in a I’m-not-going-to-say-anything fashion. Artorius adopted his classic scowl, and Brian and Mr. Gatt laughed.
    Brian made his way over to Monson. “You seem to have a knack for near-death experiences, Master Grey.”
    Monson, wanting Casey and Artorius to stop their argument, made a show of settling himself back in his bed, while smiling at Brian’s comment. “Don’t I know it. Between the happenings at Baroty Bridge, a massive statue almost falling on my head, and just about getting creamed by a runaway Ferrari, you’d think someone had it out for me. “
    Casey raised his hands. “Now I know that death is bad. I get that. But if you’ve got to go, death by Ferrari ain’t a bad way.”
    “Cassius!” exclaimed Brian. “Now that is incredibly insensitive.”
    “I don’t know about that, Brian.” Monson pulled up his blanket. “Casey’s got a point. Everyone’s going to go sooner or later. Death by Ferrari…it could be a lot worse.”
    “Yeah,” added Artorius, “like death by hybrid. I can’t think of a worse way to die.”
    “A hybrid couldn’t kill you , Arthur,” Monson assured him. “You’ve got too much girth. I thought we went over that already.”
    “Oh snap!” yelled Casey.
    Brian and Mr. Gatt tried not to laugh, but  Monson and Casey had no such inhibition. They let loose and eventually even Artorius laughed.
    “It’s good to see you in such good spirits, Monson.” Mr. Gatt walked to Monson’s bedside. “How are you feeling?”
    “Like a train hit me, now that you mention it.”
    Casey pointed at Artorius. “Well, in a way, a train kind of did. A giant red-headed train with bad breath”
    Artorius shrugged then glared.
    Monson smiled at this.  “I guess I’m not really sure what happened. What’s going on with the guy who almost hit me?”
    “He’s in custody,” responded Mr. Gatt.
    Monson sat up. “Like jail? Why would he be in jail? It was an accident, right?”
    “Well, he did hit Artorius.” Casey picked at a fingernail. “He almost hit you. And he plowed into another car. I think the police thought he was drunk. They were on him like a fat man on a Twinkie right after he hit Artorius.”
    “So had he been drinking?” asked Monson
    Casey shrugged. “I’ve got no idea. You’d have to ask - ”
    “He wasn’t,” interrupted Mr. Gatt. “They figured out very