Star-Crossed (Completed)

038

Nadia's pov

Dean and I were on the road for a day. We were staying at the motel. We believed that the Stynes were staying here.

Dean and I got dressed. He's wearing a gray shirt with a black shirt under it, jeans and biker boots.

Dean gets his coat on. I got on my jeans, shirt and jacket with my boots.

"Ready to go?" he asked. "Yes," I said, grabbing my bag. Dean grabs his bag as well.

I opened the door. We leave our motel room.

"I'm gonna talk to the manager to see if the Stynes were here," Dean said. "Okay, I'll be in the car," I said, taking our stuff.

"Nadia," he said, tossing me his keys. I caught them as I headed to the car with our stuff.

I unlocked the trunk, putting our stuff in there. I got in the car to wait for him.

My phone started ringing, I checked it. I see Sam calling me. I declined the call from him.

I put my phone down as I saw Dean leaving the office. He's on the phone.

He walks back to the car, opening the door. "He's busy," Dean said, hanging up.

"Well?" I asked. "They were here but went home. We're going to Shreveport, Louisiana," he said, shutting the door.

Dean started the car, pulling out of the parking lot. "It's gonna be a long trip," I said.

"Yup, remember. We are doing this for Charlie," he said. "For Charlie," I said.

I held hand as he drove. "You can move closer to me," he said. I moved over, close to him.

He puts his right arm around me as he drives. I leaned my head onto his chest, as he kissed my forehead.

"I love you, Nadia," he whispers. "I love you too, Dean," I said, smiling. We continued to drive to Shreveport.

Two Days Later

Dean and I just entering Shreveport about few minutes ago.

"So this is where southern douchebags are from?" I asked. "Pretty much," he said.

"We're gonna make these sons of bitches pay," I said. "That we are," Dean said, turning the corner.

I heard sirens and lights were on, I turned around, seeing them.

"Dean, we got company," I whispered, moving to the passenger seat. Dean looks in the rear view mirror.

"Shit," Dean whispers. I looked at the speed limit.

"You aren't speeding," I whispered. Dean pulls the car over.

"Get my registration for me," he said. I grabbed it, giving it to him.