NIKKI did exactly as instructed. She took the three little packages and put them in a condom and knotted it, not once, but twice. Then she coated the condom in lube, squirting the clear gel all over the rubber and smearing the entire surface at least one millimetre thick.

She hadn’t asked what the packages were. Each one the shape and size of a marble, they had come to her by way of a kid on a Harley Davidson, who wore a big patch on the back of his jacket that read PROSPECT. Tightly wrapped in brown sticky tape, the packages were slightly squishy. She had no doubt they contained powder and suspected it was heroin. But it didn’t matter, she was going to do what they asked. She had no choice.

Nikki cried during the next part. Standing completely naked, one foot on the edge of the bathroom sink and the other on the tiles, she sobbed as she pushed the now packed condom into her vagina.

‘Just smash it with some lube and throw it up ya safe,’ the prospect had said. ‘Just like whacking a tampon in.’

It wasn’t. Nikki felt violated. Tears ran down her cheeks as she used her middle finger to push the package deep into her body, as far as it could go. She pulled her leg down from the bathroom sink and stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. She didn’t move for about two minutes. She was numb. Frozen. This was too shocking to be real. But real it was.

NIKKI had called the prison to book the visit, an easier process than she’d expected. All she’d had to do was tell the lady who she wanted to visit and when.

‘Visiting days are Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday,’ the woman said.

Nikki chose Friday, as instructed. It had to be Friday.

‘What time?’ the woman asked. ‘You can either come at 8 am or 11.30 am?’

The Prospect guy hadn’t told her what time. Maybe that didn’t matter? She picked the later slot to avoid the peak-hour traffic.

‘Okay, all booked,’ the woman said. ‘You will need to bring photo ID. No thongs, singlets, midriffs or excessive jewellery. You can bring a maximum of ten dollars for the vending machine. And please be aware that you may be subjected to a body search.’

Until that moment, Nikki hadn’t even considered the risk of being caught. But she was too worried about Riley to consider backing out. About what would happen to him if she said no.

SHE had gone to the police after the bullet had been thrown through her car window. They’d sat her down in a room, bagged the bullet, and taken an official statement. Nikki wasn’t much help.

‘Did you get a number plate?’ they asked.

No.

‘Description of the rider?’

No.