It only took the three of us another half hour to reach St. Petersburg and meet up with Ivan Sokolov. I was more than happy when he took Thomas Martins in a van instead of just shooting him in front of us. I would have lost it if I walked through hell just to watch him die when I could have made that happen hours ago. Though the two hundred thousand US dollars, also known as thirteen point seven million rubles, we got paid helped sweeten my sour feelings. That was more than enough to float our stay in Moscow for years without even having to think about getting a job.
Ashton and I bought some clothes from one of the stores nearby before getting ourselves some pelmeni and hot coffee. After that, we bought two tickets to Moscow and boarded the train. We spent the entire boarding time watching everyone that entered our car, searching for someone who was around our age and build so we could steal their luggage to get us started for a week or two. I eventually fell asleep once the train started moving, not caring that I was sleeping against Ashton's firm chest or that his arm was wrapped around my body. We were already in our roles and that was a good thing. Now we were a young married couple and it had to be convincing.
It was midnight when we reached Moscow, leaving us to get an overpriced vacant room for the night so we could go apartment hunting the next day. We performed a quick sweep of the room for bugs because we were paranoid about being recorded and tracked by the KGB or the CIA, or any of the above. As expected, nothing turned up so we turned on the news and tried to plan for tomorrow.
Thankfully, Ashton had successfully stolen two pieces of luggage of clothing that fit decently well. Okay, that was a lie. The tops and the bra fit decently well, but it would take a miracle to get any of this woman's pants over my hips and my ass. Ashton watched me with an amused expression the entire time, while I fought the overwhelming urge to glare at him.
"That might be our only problem," Ashton remarked while eyeing the side of my ass from the bed while I folded yet another pair of jeans. Did this woman not believe in leggings?
"What? My ass? Gee, thanks," I drawled sarcastically but I didn't have to glance down to know he was referring to the large tattoo on my right from my hip to the bottom of the butt. It was a large black and white portrait of a snake coiled around a skull with its hood spread and it's tongue out and hissing, the words 'the snake will' printed in an arc at the top and 'always bite back' inked in a mirrored arc under the animal.
"Your tattoo is in English. That could be a problem for a French native," he pointed out lazily, looking briefly up at my face.
"I spent a semester abroad in England. That's where we met in college. We've been living in my home town in France for five years now." It's best not to be from America here, even if England wasn't much of an improvement.
I reached down and picked up a pencil skirt. I closed my eyes and exhaled. Lord give me strength because if this doesn't fit I'm going to kill someone, most likely myself. The fabric slipped up my legs, getting tighter as it reached my hips. This was something that made my figure stand out; the opposite of what I wanted to do. I reached back to zip up the skirt, realizing it only went halfway. A scowl graced my lips. "First thing tomorrow we go shopping, then apartment hunting."
"It's not my fault your ass is too big for that woman's clothes," Ashton rolled his eyes. In all honesty, she was our best option. I pulled the tight black shirt off my body while Aston sat up from where his ankles were crossed with his arms behind his head to sift through the blue luggage to his right. As I folded the clothing, he found what he was looking for and tossed it so to me as soon as I pulled a blue T-shirt over my body, covering to the middle of my ass. I was definitely on the shorter side compared to this woman.
I caught a small bottle in my left hand when Ashton tossed it to me from the luggage, eyeing the blue block print before raising my eyebrow. "Really? When did you get this?"
